KNOW YOUR ENEMY
by SolitaryHawk
Summary: [BW] Captured by an alien probe, Rattrap and Dinobot are forced to witness each other’s most personal crisis. As Megatron and the Predacons launch their surprise attack on the Axalon, will the pair be released in time to help their friends? COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

KNOW YOUR ENEMY – Part One of Four

Written and posted (c) 2007 by SolitaryHawk.

* * *

The following characters are the property of Transformers Production Company, Inc.

This story takes place sometime during BEAST WARS - Season One.

_NOTE: None of the probe's scanned details are actual 'Transformer' specs. Just the result of my own warped imagination..._

* * *

Deep in the recesses of his lair, Tarantulas paused in the middle of his meal when the nearby console chimed to get his attention. His green eyes, all eight of them, narrowed in suspicion while he drank the liquefied internals of his prey through a large pink straw – _Sluuuurp?_

"Eh? Now what's this, then?" he muttered under his breath. He threw the carcass of a small piglet into a darkened corner where it joined other bodies in varying stages of putrefaction. There was a reason why Predacons, including Blackarachnia who had similar appetites, refused to ever come down here to this subterranean spider's nest. It stank of decay and mold, was poorly lit, and its walls and furniture were as warped as its owner.

It was, in Tarantulas' humble opinion, the ultimate bachelor pad.

The computer beeped again and the huge spider skittered over to it and transformed into robot mode to properly operate the keypad. The monitor winked on, displaying an area of space with a grid coordinate displayed beneath the targeted area and flashing a yellow caution marker. The Predacon was intrigued. He hadn't received any readings like this one in months.

"_Temporal anomaly detected_," the computer informed him, as if he were blind to the obvious.

"Well, well, well," he tittered in excitement. "It looks like they've finally returned! "

* * *

In the control room of the Maximal ship, Rhinox was also engrossed in the latest space telemetry. Ever since his failure in contacting the Cybertronian probe two months ago, he had made drastic revisions to the Axelon's sensors, basically rewiring all of the antiquated systems to pull more power from the ship's energon powerblock, thus boosting the readings. He still felt, even after all this time, that he had let everyone down and had since made it his personal mission to redeem that earlier failure. 

"Rhinox to Optimus," he rumbled in the comlink. "I need you in the control room ASAP."

His superior wasted no time. The large science officer was as no-nonsense in his demeanor as he was in his scientific pursuits. If he wanted something, he meant it. "What's going on?" Optimus Primal, the Maximal commander, asked briskly once he stepped onto the bridge.

"I have a reading from space sector Kappa," came the answer. "It indicates a temporal disturbance just occurred."

"Any idea what caused it?"

"Nothing definitive. Something came through. Whatever it was, it's small. Not a ship. It's entering the planet's atmosphere as we speak."

"Is it another probe?" the large silverback gorilla asked eagerly and then hesitated. "...Or something else?"

Rhinox's usual grimace deepened. "I don't know. I have the trajectory of the landing zone already mapped out. It's going down in Sector Four-Oh-Nine. Do we have anybody near there?"

Optimus turned to the circular control table and called up the information. He stared at the topography map for a very long time, fixated on two Maximal insignia's very close to the projected area of touchdown. "Well," he said without much surprise, "that's just prime..."

"Optimus?" Rhinox swiveled around in his massive chair. He looked over at the mapping grid and saw that the pair were Rattrap and Dinobot.

"Oh no," he groaned.

* * *

Despite the reservations of the current bridge crew, they would have been relieved to know that Rattrap and Dinobot were actually getting along on this particular patrol. There were a number of reasons for this odd truce, but it had nothing to do with anything remotely resembling friendship. Rattrap was tired for one thing. He had stayed up too late the night before playing video games with Cheetor, a fellow crewmember who was an adolescent robot in both age and behavior, and he had forgotten all about this patrol until he had been called to the control room at the proverbial crack of dawn. Fatigue made him grumpy but it also kept his mouth at bay as he just focused on putting one foot in front of the other. He was an Intelligence/Surveillance model; not designed for travel over long distances. He was also hungry as hell. 

Beside him, an immense velociraptor led the pace, having to curtail his usual long strides out of consideration for the rodent's short legs. He did this without complaint, surprisingly, and it took awhile for Rattrap's dulled senses to figure out why.

"Y'know, I think I just figured something out about you Preds," he said, pausing to take a break as he tucked his cold paws under his armpits.

Dinobot kept on walking for a few more feet, realized that he was alone, and reluctantly came back. "And what is _that?"_ he asked with a hint of his usual sarcasm.

"Cold temperatures. You don't like the cold, do ya?" the rodent pointed out. "You've been shivering for the last hour."

"I do not-" the raptor broke off as his striped hide twitched uncontrollably. "-sh-shiver."

His small companion smiled. "Yeah, right." It was one weird planet that they had crashed on, that was for sure. There didn't seem to be any identifiable seasons. One morning it could be a blasted hot day, and the next there could be a foot of snow on the ground. Unfortunately this seemed to be one of those miserable bad weather days. He didn't have much of a fur coat, but it sure offered him more protection than his companion's thin scaly skin. At the moment the wind was starting to really pick up, driving icy needles of sleet against their bodies. "I've been on your old ship, remember? It's like a sauna with all that lava pooled around an' all. Damn near roasted me! Must be some sort of reptilian/insect thing, eh?"

"I am not in the mood to discuss the habitation preferences of my former comrades," Dinobot said aloofly and then relented with, "But _I_ prefer the heat, yes."

"Huh. You must have just _loved_ it on Cybertron, then. Always a constant 14.5 degrees Centigrade, there. Of course, in robot form it ain't so noticeable, not until you gain some organics from a mission, _then_ ya notice. Why I remember one time-"

"I was not stationed on Cybertron."

"Huh?" That was news to Rattrap. Dinobot didn't talk about his past. Ever. It looked like the cold was numbing ol' chopperface's emotion circuits and making conversation a little bit easier than normal. It was easy to antagonize him, hell, Rattrap could do that any old day of the week (and usually did) but this time he felt compelled to just simply talk. "You didn't? Then where'd you live?"

The raptor wiped ice pellets from his muzzle with a distracted snort and solemnly answered: "Charr."

"_Charr?!"_ the rodent craned his short neck to look up at his companion in disbelief. "That ol' Decepticon hellhole? I thought that was just a deserted rock."

"Negative. Predacons have had a battalion stationed there for over 40 stellar cycles," he said and abruptly turned around to resume his patrol. Rattrap scrambled to keep up.

"Stationed there for what?" Rattrap asked. When he got no answer, he jumped up and caught a hold of the raptor's long tail and tried to unceremoniously pull him to a stop.

Dinobot rounded on him with a snap of his jaws at the intrusion. He didn't like the questions, although they _were_ a welcome distraction from this miserable weather. But he sure as _the Pit_ didn't like to be touched.

"Stationed there to do what?!" Rattrap demanded.

Bringing his face down to the rodent's level, the raptor hissed, "I am an experienced Front Line Combat Specialist."

"Yeah, yeah, quit'cher bragging and just tell me what-"

"Has it never occurred to you, rodent, how I gained all of my experience and skill during a time when our two factions were supposedly at peace?"

Stunned, Rattrap opened his mouth but whatever he was going to say (even he wasn't sure) was drowned out by a resounding sonic boom. Both of them flinched from the sound and a fireball appeared briefly overhead before arcing westward and landing out of their sight. A few seconds later they felt the shock wave of a small explosion.

"What the slag-?!" the rodent shouted, changing quickly into his robot form. Beside him Dinobot followed suit, pulling his sword free for good measure.

Both of their comlink's crackled to life. "Optimus to Rattrap and Dinobot. Come in."

"Fearless leader, am I glad t'hear you!" Rattrap shouted. "Somethin' just passed by close enough t' singe my whiskers!"

Optimus explained the situation quickly just in case their conversation was being monitored by the Predacons. Dinobot's face tightened up at the mere mention of another Cybertron probe possibly reaching the planet but he wisely kept his mouth shut, letting Rattrap do all of the talking.

"Identify it and report back immediately," were the orders. When their commander signed off, both Maximals sprinted for the landing sight. While they ran, Rattrap looked over at the huge soldier shrewdly. "This gonna be a problem for you?"

Dinobot did an astonished double take, his optics widening in shock. "What do you mean?"

"Don't play all innocent with me! I know how twitchy you get whenever Cybertron is brought up. If it _is_ a probe, I wanna know what you're gonna do when we reach it!"

"I have _never_ shirked my duties, vermin!" came the furious reply. "Unlike _you!_ We will do exactly as Optimus ordered!"

"Fine! Just remember that I'm th' one callin' the shots here, fang-face. You got that? No funny business!"

The soldier's answer was an unintelligible snarl and he purposely pulled ahead. Rattrap, his small legs pumping furiously to keep pace, immediately regretted what he had said (and what he had insinuated, even more) but it was too late to take it back. He didn't trust Dinobot, and probably never would, but the former Predacon had been right about one thing: He always followed orders, even if he wasn't happy about it.

It was certainly more than Rattrap could brag about.

Dinobot came to a sudden abrupt stop at the edge of what looked like a crater and suddenly replaced his sword back to its spine sheathe. Rattrap finally caught up to him, huffing and puffing, and looked down, his optics widening in surprise and recognition. Below them, hovering several feet above the smoldering ground was a large golden orb that looked vaguely like an overgrown seedpod.

"Aw slag, it's one of those alien probe thingies!" He pulled his gun out of its thigh holster and with a move like quicksilver, Dinobot grabbed his arm and started to pull him back.

"Don't provoke it," he said in a low, cautious tone.

"What'cha talking about? It-"

Ignoring him, the soldier slapped his chest plate to activate his comlink. "Dinobot to Optimus."

"Optimus here. What's the situation?"

"I would say the situation is critical. It's a probe identical to the one that attacked us at the Standing Stones."

"Fall back!" Optimus said quickly. "Under no circumstances are either of you to approach that thing. Not until you have reinforcements. Understand?"

"Affirmative. I will contact you once we have withdrawn to a safer distance. Dinobot out." Turning to Rattrap, he said flatly, "Holster your weapon and back up. Slowly. No arguments, vermin."

Rattrap didn't. He well remembered that last time one of these space pods had touched down on the planet. Optimus and Dinobot had traveled to view it only to be met by Megatron and Waspinator. Their conflict had activated the alien device and it abducted Optimus Primal while scrapping the three others in a span of seconds. The fact that Dinobot, of all robots, had a deep wariness for the unknown object was not lost on him.

"What was it like? Y'know, when it clicked ...on?" he asked nervously.

Baring his teeth at the memory, the soldier summed it up with one word: "Agony."

"...Oh, okay then. Great."

They had backed up out of sight of the pod and were turning to return to safer ground when the ground exploded two feet to Rattrap's left, sending him sprawling. Dinobot made the mistake of turning towards the crater, believing the probe was attacking, when another blast hit him squarely in the back, driving him down into the cold slush. He slid for about ten feet and went still. There was the sound of maniacal laughter overhead and Terrorsaur hovered over Rattrap, a Predacon of red and silver chrome and armed to the teeth.

"What's up, boys?" he chuckled. "Lovely day to be out on a stroll. Too bad it's going to be your last!" He started firing his shoulder-mounted cannons.

"Lousy Pred-" Rattrap ducked to one side, pulled out his gun and started shooting back.

"No!" Dinobot shouted, raising his head. His back was badly charred, making his sword and shield unavailable. "You idiots! Stand down!"

"_Hey!_ How's 'bout some assistance here?" the Maximal squawked. When Terrorsaur had him pinned down, and looked about to go in for the kill, Dinobot had no choice but to power up his optic lasers and return fire, cursing under his breath as he did so.

Twin green blasts caught a glancing blow across the Flyer's side, driving him into a nosedive before he recovered in midair and pulled back. Rubbing his stinging side, he activated his comlink. "Terrorsaur to Megatron. I, uh, could use a little help here!"

"Keep attacking, fool!" came the expected response from the Predacon leader.

"Yeah, sure, But you're going to be coming soon, right? Right?!" He tapped his communicator lightly. "_Helloooo-!"_ A bullet ricocheted off of his helmet and he had to give up talking and engage the enemy. Not that he minded _that_, of course, but the mission specifics had been a little vague on this particular assignment. "If you spot any Maximals, start shooting. The closer you do that to the probe the better," Megatron had told him. Now that he thought about it, it sounded like his leader _wanted_ him to deliberately trigger the-

"Uh oh," he muttered, avoiding a volley of laser fire as he cast a sharp glance at the crater.

The probe had risen to ground level and was starting to glow. Exercising the better part of valor, the Flyer decided that this would be a perfect time to haul tail out of here. He transformed into his pterodactyl form and started beating a hasty retreat.

Dinobot immediately recognized that the probe was powering up. He tried to get to his feet and fell back down on one knee, grabbing at his wounded back with a pained grimace. He swung his head around at Rattrap and shouted, "Run!"

"But you-!"

"There's no time, rodent! GO!"

Rattrap visibly hesitated, and at any other time the soldier would have been heartened by the rare loyalty being shown by his usual rival. Right now, however, he could have easily kicked the idiot right in the oversized teeth to send him on his way, _if he could just get to his slagging feet-!_

There was a high-pitched whine and Dinobot had time to think; _Not again-!_ when the pod whirled, releasing a pressure wave of white energy that radiated outwards like a solar flare. It engulfed the two Maximals and seconds later reached Terrorsaur as he tried to escape. There was no avoiding this weapon, purposely designed to act like an electromagnetic pulse and disable anything electronic for a radius of over 200 feet. All three robots dropped like stones, screaming, their bodies contorting in agony as white fire burst from their optics and mouths. Successfully immobilizing them, the probe shot out three energy pulses that encircled their contorted forms.

All three disappeared.

* * *

Optimus and Rhinox watched helplessly as the two Maximal insignia's disappeared from the topography map. A few seconds after that, the sensor reading from the entire area went offline as the alien energy wave affected the signal. 

His fingers digging into the tabletop, Optimus squeezed his eyes shut. "Rattrap... Dinobot- _SLAGGIT!_" he pounded the controls in futility.

Rhinox put a calming hand on the younger commander's shoulder. "The last time it happened, Dinobot was able to be repaired. And you were returned safe and sound. Remember? Consider that before you do anything rash."

Optimus tried to remember his alien abduction and always came back with thoughts of being trapped in a void. It was all he could recall. Just all-encompassing blackness. He had surrendered to it, hoping, _praying_, that whatever force studying him would realize that he wasn't a threat and return him safely. It had actually worked.

But now they had Dinobot and Rattrap in their grasp, and surrender was in _neither_ of their vocabularies.

"Do you still have the device you made that day?" Optimus asked him desperately.

The large scientist looked at him in surprise. "Well, yeah. But... I never got the chance to see if it actually worked!"

"It looks like you're going to get that chance. Go find it," he said and when Rhinox ran off the bridge, Optimus tried to pull up an image of the Predacon ship. No good. Megatron had jamming towers arranged all around the perimeter of their territory, making sensor sweeps impossible. There was no telling if Megatron's forces were mobilized or scattered like his own. He figured the former more likely and his worry intensified.

"Cheetor, come in." One by one, he ordered the other Maximals to return to base, offering no explanations. There was enough time for that later. Right now, he just wanted all possible crewmembers on board as quickly as possible before Megatron made his move.

Whatever it might be.

* * *

Unlike Optimus Primal, his Predacon counterpart cared nothing about scientific exploration of this miserable planet, or sending out valuable forces to execute meaningless patrols. Megatron liked his subordinates just where they were: under his thumb and ready to strike at a moment's notice. And that was just what he was planning right now. 

He had watched everything transmitted from the videocam imbedded in Terrorsaur's left optic right up to the moment the probe attacked. The fact that he had lost one of his Flyers caused him little concern. _Collateral damage._ At least the fool had actually succeeded in his mission. With the rat and the turncoat both offline he now had a huge tactical advantage.

_Victors do not spurn opportunity._

It had been one of Dinobot's favorite sayings. _Before._ Megatron's face tightened up at the mere memory of his former second-in-command. On the rare times when he allowed himself to think of the first time they ever met, he privately wished that he had never crossed paths with the willful son-of-a-bot. He should have selected someone else as a member of his crew on that fateful day. _Oh Yes._

Not necessarily loyal, certainly not a friend by any stretch of the imagination, but the soldier had been intelligent and shrewd. Most importantly, Megatron could never successfully intimidate him into changing his opinion, once he made one. It had allowed for some... memorable debates between them. By the end of which, Megatron would eventually see the other side to the argument (even if he rarely let it influence him). There had been a great deal of animosity between them but, despite himself, the huge Predacon had come to rely on the soldier's keen insight and careful strategizing. _But now-!_ Megatron found himself surrounded by a crew of terrified lackeys that were absolutely no help in the decision-making process. It was no wonder why he kept encountering these embarrassing setbacks (his enormous ego refused to consider them _defeats_). He was the one having to do all of the blasted thinking!

Giving his head an irritated shake, Megatron got back to the matter at hand. Bringing one huge fist down on the arm of his immense throne-like control chair, he bellowed into his communicator. "All Predacons! Prepare to attack the Maximal base!"

* * *

Seated once more in the center of its charred circle, the alien probe remained still, humming in a low, barely perceivable tone as it processed some unknown data. It had started to snow heavily in the deserted area. Heavy white flakes began to cover up the blast marks of the battle that had only occurred a few moments before, creating an eerie hush in the air. There was no trace of life or activity, all was silent, and then a cold voice projected loudly: 

"!!SCANNING: ...

UNIT SERIAL CODE: 9Z07Q-L1

PERSONAL IDENT: Spycraft

CALL SIGNS: Terrorsaur (IDENT: Current), Velocity.

FACTION: Predacon

GENDER: Male

HOMEBASE: Kaon Capital, Cybertron

DESIGNATION: Aviation Model

SPECIALIZATION: Long Range Surveillance / Combat

MILITARY RANK: Epsilon Class (Low)

SECURITY LEVEL: 4 (Low)

ASSIGNMENT: A-Class Transwarp Reaper / IDENT: Darkside

COMMANDING OFFICER: 9H45D-J6 (IDENT: Megatron)

MISSION: Classified

CURRENT STATUS???

SCANNING: ...

RESULT: Unit Terrorsaur is not a significant subject worth engaging in further study."

The opaque gold covering of the probe retracted just enough to jettison out Terrorsaur's still form with no delicacy. The Predacon was ejected far beyond the limits of the crater and he landed in a heap, without rousing. The snow fell on his body and began to quickly cover it in a delicate blanket.

The orifice on the probe drew closed.

The probe began to hum louder.

"!!SCANNING: ..." it bellowed again.

* * *

Part Two: Dinobot learns the reasons behind Rattrap's hatred of the Predacons. 


	2. Chapter 2

KNOW YOUR ENEMY – Part Two of Four

Written and posted in 2007 © by SolitaryHawk

* * *

"Dinobot, Beta, 4K21A-T4."

It was all that the soldier said. He stood immobile with his arms crossed and just stubbornly repeated his current ident, rank, and serial code over and over to the blackness that encompassed him. He had already crossed paths with this enemy twice and had been scrapped for no damned good reason. Right now, he refused to be baited into action. He would not give this unknown threat the satisfaction of responding, despite the fact that it appeared his damage was now repaired. That included the injuries he had sustained from Terrorsaur's earlier assault.

"Dinobot, Beta, 4K21A-T4."

Despite his rigid pose, his mind was a whirling vortex; strategizing, contemplating scenarios, debating others, wondering what course of action he dared to initiate to get out of this situation. It was fortunate that Optimus Primal had endured this attack first so that he at least had an idea of what to expect: Darkness, disembodiment, being studied. Optimus, in his usual cockeyed benevolence, had simply allowed his examination to go on without fighting back. That did not sit well with Dinobot because it stank of surrender and that was a recourse that was NOT in his circuits.

"Dinobot, Beta, 4K21A-T4."

It seemed like he had been standing around for hours! If these aliens were waiting him out to see if he was going to finally snap, he figured that they weren't going to have to wait for very much longer. He was starting to shake from the toll restraining his battle mode was having on him. Charging headlong into this void would do him absolutely no good, he knew that, but his instincts were screaming that something was wrong and his Predacon nature knew only two things: Attack the threat and kill it-

"!!SCANNING:…"

_Finally!_ Having waited for something like this, he dampened down on his audio feed and stood expectantly in place waiting for the rest.

"UNIT SERIAL CODE: D8WC9-4G

PERSONAL IDENT: Quarrel

CALL SIGNS: Sidekick, Rattrap (IDENT: Current), Truant-"

"_What?!"_ Dinobot asked in confusion. Were these aliens so incompetent as to actually confuse him with the rat?!

"FACTON: Maximal

GENDER: Male

RESIDENCE: Cybertropolis, Cybertron

DESIGNATION: Infiltration Model

SPECIALIZATION: Espionage; Munitions

CIVILIAN RANK: Navigator

SECURITY LEVEL: 2

ASSIGNMENT: C-Class Long-range Cruiser / IDENT: Axelon

COMMANDING OFFICER: B2NQ4-1H (IDENT: Optimus Primal)

ASSOCIATES: Y5SM3-8K (IDENT: Cheetor), I7LF0-3E (IDENT: Rhinox)

MISSION: Space exploration

CURRENT STATUS???

SCANNING: ...

RESULT: Unit Rattrap is successfully off-line."

"I AM NOT THAT STINKING VERMIN!" Dinobot screamed back, actually managing to surpass the volume of the probe's scan. "I'm a decorated Predacon soldier, not some repulsive Maximal garbage eater! Get your facts straight!"

There was a long considering pause as his captor considered his explosive tirade and Dinobot, perhaps realizing that might have gone just a tad too far, gingerly reached behind his back for his sword. Just in case. He found the weapon inaccessible. When he tried to arm his optic lasers they sere similarly disabled.

Just as he started to look around desperately for an escape, it seemed like a super nova exploded before his optics, sending him stumbling backwards and blinded from the glare. He ducked his face protectively into the crook of his arm and tried to wait it out. There was no heat, no pain, just piercing brilliance and it wasn't going away. When he dared to risk a glance, squinting painfully, he found himself surrounded by thousands, perhaps hundreds of thousands, of tiny image screens. They were everywhere, scattered around in a haphazard mess that made his mind ache from the clear chaos of it all. Some had dates; most didn't, and were arranged in no particular order. When he looked down at his feet, he saw that it even looked like he was 'walking' on a litter of file screens.

Dinobot identified the writing as standard Maximal text but he didn't realize what was happening here until he stared at a data screen and caught sight of a familiar face apparently reflected back in a mirror.

Rattrap.

Somehow, for some strange perverted reason, he appeared to be trapped inside the loathsome rodent's mainframe for no purpose he could fathom. His earlier impressions of the supposedly superior alien mindset were slipping by the minute. Instead of being stuck inside some encompassing void, he was now a prisoner of the rodent's mind? Intolerable. The beast form pseudo-flesh along his chest and arms seemed to crawl with disgust as he unwillingly looked around, seeing the faces of Maximals he didn't know (or cared to), and places he didn't recognize. It seemed the little bot was as well traveled as he liked to boast, which actually came as a surprise. The Maximal had the skill to weave fact and fiction together until one could scarcely be separated from the other and Dinobot just tended to scoff at everything he heard. From what he could gather from evaluating the haphazard mess, Rattrap had engaged in a staggering multitude of vocations; Spy, Navigator, Deputy, Energon miner, Security officer, Courier, Munitions expert, Disc Jockey, Informant, Salvage pilot, Building caretaker, and (Dinobot particularly relished this last title) Janitor.

Oh, he would definitely have to remember _that_ one the next time the little rodent started in on his proud Predacon heritage. Yes, indeed.

There were an astonishing number of females to be seen here, unmistakable in their supple design and generous breastplates. As far as the soldier could make out, Rattrap often played the voyeur; seemingly more comfortable to spy on couples than be an actual participant. The screen grabs were filled with an uncomfortable amount of what could best be described as Transformer porn. It was enough to make the large Predacon, who was by no means a prude by any stretch of the imagination, wish for a bath. A voyeuristic, peeping tom Maximal janitor. _By the Pit, he had to get out of here!_

As if reading his thoughts came the bellowed monotone of the probe: "WHAT DO YOU WANT?"

"An exit," Dinobot said immediately.

"REQUEST DENIED. YOU MUST KNOW."

The words faded and the soldier's face twisted in confusion. "Must know- _what?"_

"YOU MUST UNDERSTAND."

"_WHAT?!"_ he was back to screaming again.

There was no answer and Dinobot made a backhanded gesture of frustration and regarded the scattered datatracks with contempt. He didn't want anything to do with the rodent and resented having this experience being forced upon him. Rattrap had been nothing but a pain in his aft side the instant he had joined their ranks. Concepts of gratitude and appreciation were alien to him. Aside from challenging the other Maximals over leadership, which was ingrained in a recruit the second they emerged from the protoform stage, Dinobot followed his orders and had even saved their lazy hides on more than one occasion. When he considered the hassle the rodent gave him on a daily basis he often wondered why he even bothered. The little bot was steadfast in his distrust of Predacons and would not be wavered. In the back of his mind, Dinobot sometimes wondered why.

"YOU HAVE CHOSEN," the probe thundered, making him visibly flinch in surprise.

"What are you talking about? I didn't say any-"

He received the sensation of being pushed backwards by an unseen force and it actually had the strength to make him stumble a few steps. When he looked around, he saw that he was standing on a street that was a highly polished chrome while around him were the looming spires of immaculate silicon towers. There was a sensation of motion out of the corner range of his optics and when he marginally turned his head, he saw a huge land-bound transport bearing down on him. Throwing himself to the side, the vehicle barely missed him as it flew past on its mag cushion, not even slowing down. The huge soldier glared after it and then went back to appraising his surroundings as he got slowly to his feet.

There were a few stragglers walking along the sidewalk and his appearance didn't appear to raise any interest. He tapped his foot on the hard surface beneath him and then gingerly reached out and touched the wall of the nearest building. He could feel firm surface and he actually projected a shadow under the harsh lighting. Shielding his eyes, he looked upwards and had his suspicions confirmed when he saw the tech net that made up the city's "sky".

He was on Cybertron and that _wasn't_ a good thing.

A trio of Maximals were approaching and he visibly tensed, pressing himself up against the wall and reaching for his sword in apparent self-defense. The weapon was still off line and he almost went into battle mode until the peaceful inhabitants casually strolled by without sparing him so much as a glance. Compared to their smooth robotic forms and lack of weapons, Dinobot stood out like a neon beacon but they didn't appear to be able to see him. He decided to try another tactic...

"Maximals breed with garbage scows!" he shouted after the departing bots and clenched his hands into tight fists, waiting for the reaction. There was none. The insult had no effect. Apparently they couldn't hear him or see him. He was stuck inside some sort of simulation, then; able to interact with the environment, not the citizens. The aliens' purpose in subjecting him to this new torture escaped him.

Considering his surroundings again, he idly wondered which city he was in. It's prissy cleanliness identified it as one dominated by Maximal tenants and he knew of only two newer Capitals that had been upgraded recently: Cybertropolis and Nova Cronum. He had never set foot in either. In truth, he had only visited the Transformer homeworld twice, the last time reporting for a maintenance service at a Military repair facility in the old Decepticon capital of Kaon. Like most soldiers, Dinobot was kept off world and stationed to satellite bases scattered throughout the galaxy, and he was content to bide his time until Cybertron was back under Predacon rule, no matter how long that might be. His military programming simply could not endure being regarded as a second-class citizen on a planet where the inhabitants presently outnumbered his breed thirty to one.

So why was he here now?

The answer came as a knapsack landed near his feet and he looked up just in time to see a body plummeting towards him. He jumped back just as the bot collided with the sidewalk with a loud clang. For a moment there was silence and then the Maximal released a pained groan and pulled itself up to his hands and knees before sitting up with difficulty, cradling his head. Dinobot's optics widened in surprise and recognition, realizing who was presently moaning at his feet.

Rattrap.

The small bot still had his tacky gold and silver color scheme but now lacked the organic components that he had adopted after crash-landing on the planet. Aside from the lack of a rat head on his chest plate, there was little that was different about him.

"Aw slag, I hate it when that happens..." the little Transformer moaned and flinched when a camera bounced off of his head and landed on the ground in a litter of broken parts.

"I warned you, you little creep!" shouted a voice from above. A yellow bot was hanging over a balcony two floors up and waving his fist down at him. "I slagging warned you that if I caught you spying on me again I was gonna evict you! Get out of here!"

"Why don't you byte me -" Rattrap threw himself forward as a heavy piece of equipment, it looked like a recycler, was thrown over the balcony missing him by mere inches. Blinking in amazement at the heap of broken metal, he still couldn't resist one last parting shot up at his now-former landlord; "I've stayed in better dumps than yours anyway-"

"I don't doubt it!" came the response and the door to the apartment slammed shut.

Dinobot shook his head and chuckled.

Rattrap suddenly swung his head around in his direction, red optics blazing in fury. "And what the heck're YOU laughing at?" he demanded.

His shouders rising in tension, Dinobot opened his mouth to begin another round of their usual insults and was interupted by a voice behind him; "Y'know _Quarrel_, last time I looked you weren't a Flyer!"

The Maximal's eviction had attracted a fair bit of attention despite the late (or early?) hour and several of the little bot's peers were standing nearby watching the show with clear amusement. It was curious to Dinobot that no one appeared either surprised or sympathetic with this rough act of eviction, especially among a group of citizens that were supposed to be close converts to the Pax Cybertronia, and the representatives of all things that were good and just in the universe. The soldier had always thought that rubbish as some sort of propaganda; Maximals clearly had a dark side of their own. The only difference to their Predacon counterparts was that they were in denial of possessing one while the other side embraced it.

"Har de har har, Goldcrest," came Rattrap's sarcastic retort. "Thanks for breaking my fall by the way."

The other bot offered a lame shrug and entered the building without another word, his friends all in tow. They each spared Rattrap a sly glance as they passed by. Dinobot could hear them laughing it up long after the front door slid shut. "You make friends everywhere you travel, I see," he commented with amusement.

Not hearing him, the smaller bot slung his bag over one shoulder. Muttering under his breath, he stomped on down the road, deftly maneuvering around other Maximals who were moving too slowly to suit his humiliating retreat.

Even though Dinobot elected not to follow after the disgruntled Maximal, he received another one of those formless 'pushes' and got the hint. For whatever reason it was clear that he had to keep the obnoxious rodent in sight and he decided that his best course of action was to humor the probe's agenda, for now anyway. Besides, witnessing the other bot's misfortune was actually starting to cheer him up a little...

Rattrap was still cursing under his breath when he reached a depot where a cluster of Maximals were standing. One turned its head towards him as he approached and greeted, "Hey Quarrel, how goes the job search?"

"I don't wanna talk about it, Ruffalo," Rattrap grumbling, settling into step beside him, preceding to wait.

"That good, eh?"

"My last captain was a slag-spoutin' idiot!" the smaller bot told him. "Wolfbane kept expecting me to kiss aft and do everything he was too lazy to do. I signed on as Security officer and more times then not, I was cleanin' out the ship's recycler. When we got back yesterday I told him to take that job and shove it up his tail pipe!"

Everyone started laughing and he flashed them a dirty look. Wisely, they all fell silent until a large public transport came up the line and settled smoothly into place in front of them. The other Maximals began to walk on but Rattrap remained standing where he was. His companion lingered back, "Not coming?"

"Naw. I'm gonna head into Pitch and blow off some steam."

A look of concern crossed the other Maximal's smooth features. "Be careful. You know that it's considered dangerous territory-"

"-For you, maybe," Rattrap shot back. "I can handle myself."

The other bot passed him a short nod and boarded the transport without bothering to try and reason with him any further. The vehicle rose silently on its cushion of energy and purred down the street to unknown destinations. Watching it leave, Rattrap crossed his arms and stared down at his feet as he waited alone at the transportation depot. Eventually another vehicle appeared, this one not so new or quiet, and the Maximal boarded the dented transport and chose a seat in the back.

Coming along for the ride (he really had no choice in the matter), Dinobot banged his forehead on the entranceway's overhang and, once inside, banged his head again on the ceiling when he tried to straighten to his full height. _Slagging inferior Maximal design..._ He opted to sit awkwardly on a bench clearly designed for models of greater bulk and watched the sights with little interest as the transport took them progressively out of the city. It made several more stops along the way and picked up a few more travelers; two were Maximals but Dinobot brightened a little when he saw that the rest were fellow Predacons. Onboard, there was a lax truce as bots of either faction simply nodded to one another in recognition. A few even called Rattrap by his personal intent. Rattrap responded in kind.

Dinobot's curiosity grew.

The transport's destination became clear when a small city came into view on the horizon, growing quickly as the transport sped up along the route rail at a speed surpassing Mach 2. It was not nearly as shiny or new as the metropolis they had left. Like the vehicle heading towards it, the urban development clearly showed signs of neglect and poor funding that marked it as a Predacon township where the inhabitants had clustered protectively together instead of opting to live among their more-peaceful cousins as a scorned minority. Predacons were the established second-class citizens of Cybertron, especially since the "Great Upgrade" that had resulted in all Transformers receiving smaller forms and greater intelligence. The Maximal Elders, recognizing a possible threat, did everything in their power to ensure the protection of their citizens and their decisions resulted in isolated communities like this one, which in reality were little better than detention camps.

The only one true freedom that a Predacon possessed on their home world was that they could leave the planet at their leisure, and it was something that the Elders actually encouraged. Once out in space, they could go anywhere or do anything they wished. As far as Cybertron was concerned, they were then someone else's problem. But while on the planet, considerations of employment, advancement, traveling, and procuring funds for development were carefully screened and deliberately involved a lengthy application process. Even encoding a new spark from Vector Sigma to a Predacon affiliation was an exercise in frustration: Only thirty percent of sparks from the Matrix were permitted to be encoded that designation. It was another way to ensure that there could never be another rebellion, or another war. Not so long as the ruling party had superior numbers.

Once inside of the township's limits, the transport pulled to a stop at a station that looked as if it had been recently firebombed. Still muttering to himself, Rattrap exited the transport when everyone else unloaded and Dinobot unwillingly trailed along after him (banging his head on that blasted overhang again as he did so). The rest of the passengers dispersed quickly, lost amidst the shadows of the looming, sloped buildings.

The odd pair stood on the curb as the vehicle departed for other destinations and then the small Maximal said under his breath, "My life sucks," and proceeded to walk slowly down the littered sidewalk.

There were large packs of disgruntled Predacons patrolling the streets and one group emerged from a side alley directly in front of them. They identified the lone straggler with interest and immediately diverted their course to intercept.

"You're out of your territory, Maximal scum," the large bot in the lead rumbled as they walked over.

"Any place on Cybertron is my territory, chromenuts," Rattrap shot back. "You lost the War, remember?"

The brown Predacon's optics widened in astonishment. When he moved in, raising one huge fist, the smaller Transformer had already drawn his pistol and had it aimed at the antagonist's crotch. He looked up at other bot fearlessly. "Get back or I'll transform your voicebox into soprano-mode. I mean it, rusty, I'm in a bad mood."

The quartet pulled reluctantly back, the one in the lead reduced to inarticulate snarls of fury. Their pack was armed with handmade weapons of crude iron pipe clubs and whips made of razor wire. It was an indication of another brutal truth of what Rattrap had so bluntly said earlier; because they had lost the War, a Predacon was only permitted to stay on Cybertron if their innate weapons were unarmed. That didn't mean that they couldn't improvise (and did) but the sight of his brothers reduced to carrying such crude weapons only justified Dinobot's hatred towards Maximals even more.

Rattrap kept his weapon trained on them as they passed by and then returned it to his holster with an elaborate flourish, immediately losing interest. He seemed to be intent on a predetermined destination and was not going to be sidetracked by a bunch of rough punks. Cutting behind an abandoned tenement and through a side alley, he stepped out into a street that had a little more action. A pair of Predacons (Assault models to Dinobot's experienced eye) were brawling on the street with a crowd of onlookers shouting encouragement or taunts, depending on whom they were supporting.

Rattrap had to jump up and down to try and catch a glimpse of the action and then turned to the nearest Predacon, "Yo! Who's winning?"

The larger bot eyed him critically for a few seconds and then grumbled out; "Staccato had the upper hand at first, but Blackhorn is wearing him down."

Rattrap offered him a credit note. "Fifty on Blackhorn, then."

For a split second it didn't look as if the Predacon was going to take the bet, not considering the breed of who was offering the note, but he finally relented. Money, especially Maximal currency, was in short supply in this district. "Agreed," he said and made it disappear. He and the small bot exchanged names and the Rattrap was off again without waiting around to see who would win the fight. He must have known, as Dinobot did, that such brawls could take as long as several hours before both fighters used up the last of their reserves.

Ducking down another side alley, Rattrap stopped at a rusted door that had the words "The Smelter" scrawled across it in chipped fluorescent paint. He rapped his armored knuckles on the metal twice and then settled into place, fidgeting restlessly. "C'mon, c'mon..."

A slot pulled open and yellow optics stared straight out and looked around. The bot behind the door was about to pull it closed again before he noticed the diminutive Maximal standing underneath of it. There was an audible sigh before a rough voice snarled; "Quarrel, isn't there any other place you can go annoy for a night? Preferably in your own flakking city?"

"Aw c'mon Barrage, there ain't nothing going on over there! Besides, I got kicked out of my apartment."

"Again?" There was another disgruntled sigh and that was followed by several locks being undone before the door swung open on rusty hinges. "Diamondback and Bludfist are downstairs in the-"

"-Yeah, yeah, I know where they are," Rattrap squeezed himself past the larger Transformer and quickly headed down the corridor without another word.

Dinobot managed to wedge himself past the green Security model before the heavy door slammed shut. The bot was glaring after the Maximal with concentrated hatred. "Arrogant little flakker," he growled as he reset the locks.

"You don't know the half of it," Dinobot muttered, reluctantly giving chase. He had to hustle to keep the small Maximal in his sight and it was difficult in the poor lighting and the fact that this place, whatever purpose it served, was crowded. Predacons of varied models and sizes were milling around in haphazard clusters, seemingly engrossed in conversation rather than battle, a true rarity. Rattrap ducked and wove around them with skilled ease, heading straight for a flight of stairs and Dinobot finally caught up to him at the lower level, almost running into him.

The basement of the building had been changed into one gigantic room with dim track lighting and vibrating with the beat of rhythmic heavy bass drums and robotic screams that was the thinly veiled equivalent of what served as Predacon music. They were the majority of the revelers down here, packed shoulder to shoulder in this smoky, dim hellhole, but here and there was a Maximal apparently accepted amongst their rougher counterparts just as Rattrap appeared to be. A few crossed their path on the way to the bar, calling the small bot by his name. One dented male actually punched him playfully on the shoulder as he staggered by. The overall mood of the place was one of restrained tolerance; everyone here just seemed to be intent on socializing, as evident in one shadowy corner where two soldiers were bumping their chestplates against one another; a rough display of foreplay.

Initially, Dinobot tried to avoid contact with the occupants of the crowded establishment but soon realized that he didn't have to bother when one bot ran straight through him. It was the first time that he realized that he could have spared himself a lot of grief by all this dancing around. Strange that he could interact with the environment but not its inhabitants... He attempted to take a swipe at Rattrap's head while the bot's back was turned and frowned when his hand went through him.

These aliens definitely had a twisted sense of humor.

Rattrap pushed himself up to the bar and hollered to the male behind it; "Hey! Where are Diamondback and Bludfist holed up tonight?"

"I ain't telling you a slagging thing until you settle your tab, you little moocher!" the bartender snapped back.

Rattrap looked stunned. "I'm all paid up-"

"The Pit you are! You still owe me for last month."

"I do not!"

While the pair argued, Dinobot leaned against the counter and crossed his arms as he cast a shrewd eye over the crowd, identifying Military soldiers that appeared to be on leave, several smaller Infiltration models, and the majority of the rest being Security bots that were no doubt employed in the Maximal Capital. There were only a two females to be seen and Dinobot, while disappointed, was not surprised. Predacons were a male dominated breed with the ratio of females making up about only eleven percent of the active forces. As a result, male soldiers adopted the sexual orientation of 'Opportunist'; roughly translated to mean; Anything, anytime, anyplace. It could be a non-sentient creature, a piece of vegetation, a non-consenting hostile, or even a fellow soldier. It almost always ended up being the latter, when the other diversions proved disappointing, and it was the most accepted practice. Concerns about same-gender pairings went ignored among a race that was based on technology and didn't procreate, and it was a well-established fact that the Quintessons had intentionally programmed their ancestors, the Decepticons, to be 'male' for their perceived heightened aggression and fighting ability.

Despite how he was hardcoded, Dinobot preferred the company of that elusive female breed and was often content to dampen down his hedonistic urges until one became available and was equally receptive. He had been fortunate during his prolonged posting on Charr and he ducked his head in sudden grief at the thought of those he had left behind. He had volunteered to serve as Megatron's second-in-command but the choice to leave was never an easy one for him. He had his days when he tried to remember just what had motivated him to give up everything to go work for the tyrant in the first place and always came up blank.

The blaring music came to a sudden end (to his eternal relief) and a voice shouted over the loudspeakers; "And now presenting the incomparable Red Carnivora for your listening pleasure!"

There was a twisting blur as a figure somersaulted in the air and landed on one tall table and when the crimson Flyer spread out her iridescent red wings, Dinobot immediately forgot all about Charr and Megatron. The lithe female had a build that was deceptively waif-like and fragile, but when she started to sing, her voicebox was tuned into the ultrasonic range that resonated along the gathered crowd's armor. Everyone instantly ceased what they were doing and paid her rapt attention.

That included Dinobot, who had his head cocked to the side and an odd expression on his face as he listened. He didn't notice that Rattrap had paid his tab and had been directed to the other side of the building by the now-satisfied bartender. Shouting back some retort to the smug bot, the Maximal gathered up his belongings again and left the bar area.

Focused intently on the attractive singer, Dinobot was coming to terms with the fact that he had _definitely_ been in space for far too long when the aliens, no longer content to just give him another nudge in Rattrap's direction, actually picked him off of his feet and threw him. He flew about twelve feet and smashed into the nearest wall, falling to the ground in a jumble of arms and legs. Rising quickly to his feet he cast a quick glance around, assured that no one had witnessed this humiliating scene and, with a grumbled curse, followed after Rattrap without hesitation, having gotten the brutal hint.

There was a section in the corner that was raised on a platform and had several tables arranged on it that were all full of drinking, laughing Predacons. Rattrap climbed the stairs and settled into a seat at the head table and immediately plucked a glass of Afterburn out of the hand of the bot seated next to him. He downed it without hesitation.

The Predacons at the table had all ceased their conversations and were now staring at him, thunderstruck. Noticing their stares, Rattrap belched, wiped his mouth, and then held out the glass. "How's about a refill?" he asked neutrally.

The group burst out laughing.

"Quarrel, sometime you're going to tick off the wrong bot and get yourself scrapped," commented a Predacon who leaned across the table and refilled his glass. Her voice and those generous curves were distinctly female.

"Never happen," the small Maximal quipped. "Besides, you'd protect me, wouldn't you Diamondback?"

"Uhm," the female said with a lopsided smile and settled back into her seat. The silver male on her left placed a possessive arm around her shoulders as he considered the new arrival with sullen green optics. "Kicked out of the Capital again?" he asked.

"Same old, Blud, same old. Nobody in that city gets me, you know?"

"No," remarked the large Predacon as he nursed his own drink. "Can't say that I do. That's why I live here with my brothers-"

"-and sisters," Diamondback cut in.

He cast her a resentful glare and continued on as if he hadn't been interrupted, "-instead of amongst that gathering of snobs. I should think you would have learned your lesson by now, Quarrel."

"Hey, whatd'ya expect? I'm a Maximal!"

"Who prefers the lifestyle of a Predacon," Bludfist said coldly.

For once, Rattrap had no comeback for that and only eyed the other bot over the lip of his glass while he drank. The varied conversations of the table's other occupants started up again and Afterburn, a banned intoxicant on Cybertron, began flowing freely. It didn't take long before two bots began arguing and one reached across the table to grab the other. With a move like lightening, Bludfist got to his feet and pulled a laser dagger out of his wrist gauntlet and pointed it to the antagonist. "Take it outside, Gharial. You know the rules: No fighting in The Smelter."

The gray bot bared his sharp fangs at his taller counterpart and then glared at his original target. "Outside we'll go, then," he snarled.

"Agreed," said the other and the pair left the platform in search of the nearest exit.

Bludfist shut off the dagger and returned it to its hiding spot while he watched the pair leave. Standing nearby, Dinobot regarded him warily, recognizing a fellow Infantry soldier when he saw one. Their color-schemes and armor design were vastly different but the height and the well-proportioned body and limbs were a dead give away, as well as that authoritative manner of speech. Infantry soldiers had more processing power than most models, needing the additional banks to make snap judgments on the battlefield. As a result, they rose swiftly through the Military ranks and made up the majority of experienced officers. The fact that one of his peers was hanging out in a dilapidated bar in a Predacon tenement bothered Dinobot for no reason he could immediately identify. For the first time since Rattrap had dropped at his feet, he started to take the situation seriously and paid keen attention to what was going on.

"Aw, whatd'ya go and do that for? I was looking forward to a rumble," Rattrap said, refilling his glass for the third time.

"Maybe you should pace yourself-" Diamondback attempted when Bludfist cut her off with; "You know full well that if a brawl started in here, it would set everyone else off like a bomb. It's a miracle that this place is even still standing."

"Yeah, you gotta point there. It ain't as if there's really any other place to go," the Maximal sighed. "I checked out The Deadfall last month and it was abandoned. Same with The Foundry and World's End. In a couple of weeks, this place will probably disappear, too."

"Boy, you really know how to liven up a party," one Predacon said in disgust and got up to leave. He was followed by several others.

Bludfist sighed in annoyance. "Quarrel... why _exactly_ are you here?"

His fingers tapping nervously on the tabletop, Rattrap mumbled, "I need a place to stay."

"Not a flakking chance-"

"Of course you can stay!" Diamondback spouted until the livid soldier raised his hand up to slap her. She cringed back in her seat and fell silent, her blue optics were wide open and scared.

"Go back to your own slagging city and bother those oppressive bastards you call friends," Bludfist yelled at him. "Why should we have to bail out your sorry aft every time you tick them off?"

"Because you know what it's like!" Rattrap shouted back. "Of anyone, you know what it's like to be treated like some second-class hassle. I'm sick of it, Blud. I've got one friend in Cybertropolis. One! And he's busy with his mate. At least here in Pitch all you guys know me."

"We may know you. It doesn't necessarily mean that we like you," the soldier said bluntly.

"C'mon, you've let me shack up with you before!"

"He's got a point," the female pointed out.

Bludfist's optics narrowed to a livid squint. "You really want to get hit, don't you?" he cautioned her. "Shut up!"

Rattrap started to object, "Aw, she doesn't mean-"

"You, too!" the soldier said, pointing a finger at him. "I'm sick and tired of you running back and forth between alliances, Quarrel. I think it's time you finally decided just what breed you truly want to be. Predacon or Maximal. Choose!"

Rattrap opened his mouth to debate and fell into troubled silence. He picked up his glass and started drinking instead.

"Coward," Bludfist continued. "Hiding behind the banner of one side while pining away for the other. You'd join us without hesitation if you didn't have all the privileges that the Maximals boast: Weapons, security, employment-"

"Employment?" Rattrap broke off coughing. "You think things are so great for me? Do ya? I just quit, like, my tenth job for booting up cold! I was a Security officer for a slagging ship called the Starwreath. D'ya know what they had me doing up 'til yesterday? D'ya? Cleaning out recyclers!"

"The Starwreath-" one of the other Predacons muttered and Bludfist passed him a sharp glare and kicked him under the table.

In his agitated, inebriated state, Rattrap didn't register the change in the group but Dinobot certainly did. He noticed that an unspoken communication seemed to have circled the table as they all lapsed into meditative silence. Diamondback broke the silence first by refilling the Maximal's glass. "Looks like you're running low, little guy," she said sweetly.

"Thanks," he muttered, staring at her chest plate as she moved. He suddenly passed her a broad grin. "Y'know, you're one of the nicest babes I've ever met."

"Thank you," she said, adding a giggle of amusement.

"Cute, too," Rattrap added and went back to drinking again.

Bludfist's optics went from the female to Rattrap and back again. He suddenly broke out into a smile that contained absolutely no humor, exposing double rows of sharp teeth that would have intimidated a shark; "What do you say we continue this little get-together at our apartment?"

The Maximal's eyes lit up. "You're gonna let me stay?"

"Consider it one last ditch effort towards your conversion," the tall soldier said amiably, rising to his feet. The others at the table followed his lead and, as a unit, they were all heading for the exit with several bottles of Afterburn in their grasp for the trip.

As they walked the few blocks to the housing area of the city, Diamondback kept Rattrap occupied with aimless small talk while Bludfist hung in the back between two of his fellows. He didn't say a word but every once in while he nodded or made a gesture and Dinobot knew from his own experience that the three were communicating via a personal communication node inside each of their mainframes that was attuned to a predetermined frequency. It was a necessary adaptation for soldiers involved in missions requiring stealth where vocal communications were considered a liability.

He tried scrolling through the bands on his own receiver and picked up a faint signal. It sounded like Bludfist: _"... let her find that out. That's what she does best..."_ That was all that Dinobot was able to decipher but it was enough to put him on his guard. He hurried his step to keep tabs on the inebriated Maximal and his escort.

From the sounds of things on that end, Rattrap was pouring out his soul to the female Predacon; "-I mean, I try to be a team player and all, I really do! Honest! But for some reason they just don't get me, y'know?"

"I know," Diamondback said gently.

"It just about drives me nuts. It's like what ol' Blud said back there before; Maximals can be a bunch of snobs, it's true. But I'm a Maximal, too. So what does that make me? How come I don't fit in?"

"I don't know sweetie. You fit in just fine with us."

"Yeah..." the little bot became lost in thought. "Mebbe Blud's right. Mebbe it's time to make a choice. Slag knows I ain't happy over there... I just- I dunno what to do!"

"I think you would make a wonderful Predacon," she gushed, rubbing the top of his head.

He craned his head up to look at her. "You do?"

"You're smart, you're skilled, and you're great company. We'd be happy to have you," she suddenly dropped her face down close to his and whispered into his audio receptor, "_I'd_ be happy to have you."

His lopsided smile increased just as much as Dinobot's sensation of dread. The little bot was being manipulated in a manner that predated time and he was too drunk and vulnerable to realize it. He only knew that he had found a sympathetic ear and he wasn't going to let his seemingly good fortune go to waste. Diamondback clearly had her own agenda and wrapped one slender arm around the Maximal's waist and guided him deftly down the street, steadily gaining Rattrap's trust until he was caught hook, line, and sinker.

The 'apartment' was really a collection of barren rooms with sparse furnishings located on a second level that overlooked the street. None of the rooms looked particularly lived in and probably served more as temporary lodgings as the Predacon couple came and went to whatever destinations interested them. The five sat at an old table for a while and drank some more, engaging in random banter until it became clear that Rattrap's conversations were peppered more with yawns then words.

One of Bludfist's companions, a hulking armored form named Hammerhide, chuckled while the Maximal struggled to keep his optics lit. "Might wanna be like us, but you sure can't drink like us!"

"I can, too!" Rattrap slurred, gesturing dramatically. "I've jus' been up, like, for over forty megaclicks, tha's all. I'm jus' tired."

"Surrre you are," the other bot commented with a smile.

"Diamondback," Bludfist said shortly, "Take Quarrel to his room."

She looked over at him. "But it's still early-"

Bludfist slammed one hand down on the table and raged; "I'm getting slagging tired of your constant arguing, female. Do as I ordered!"

Her eyes started to narrow with just the slightest bit of defiance before he brought his hand up and curled it into a fist. "Don't test me," he cautioned her in a dangerous tone and she wisely took the hint. She rose to her feet and placed a hand on Rattrap's shoulder, offering him one of her radiant smiles; "Come on, Quarrel. Let's get you settled in."

He staggered along beside her into one of the side rooms that had the long, wide shelve unit that was the equivalence of a bed. Concepts of mattresses and blankets were a concern for organic-based forms and there was really little need for anything more in terms of comfort for a Transformer; just so long as the space wasn't on the floor, although even that could serve in a pinch. Even so, this arrangement was crude by Maximal standards but Rattrap wasn't about to complain about his seemingly good fortune. _At least it wasn't on the street-! _He sat down on the hard surface with a sigh of relief and flopped backwards gracelessly.

Diamondback leaned over him and smiled. "Comfy?"

"Yeah..." Rattrap said with a broad grin. His expression suddenly became serious. "I really don't like th' way Blud talks t' you."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh _that_. Don't pay him any mind, he's just impatient. That's how he's always been."

"You deserve better."

"And who would that be? You?" she said with a grin.

"Yeah," he told her, jutting out his jaw in defiance. "Me."

She blinked in surprise and considered him for a moment and suddenly kissed him. It had been meant as a friendly peck, something between friends, but it quickly became passionate.

Touching his face with delicate fingers, Diamondback whispered to him; "He beats me, you know. Bludfist is sometimes too rough and it... hurts."

He looked up at her and said sincerely, "I'd never hurt you."

"I don't know what it's like to harddrive without pain."

"Lemme show you," he said.

It should have looked ridiculous. Rattrap with his buck teeth and oversized feet, not exactly a model from the Matrix that had been blessed with any attractive attributes; he was short and his design was one for rough utilization inside crawlspaces and dirty places. Diamondback was tall and perfectly proportioned, her body covered in elaborately paneled scales that rippled with each supple movement, and her dark green and black color scheme was in direct conflict with the Maximal's, who looked like he was covered in faded rust.

Their union should have looked ridiculous, but it wasn't.

The pair engaged in a slow, thorough harddrive. Hands quested unfamiliar places and mouths nipped playfully at sensitive modules along the armor. The only sounds in the room were soft gasps of effort and gratified moans.

Standing over in the corner, Dinobot cast a veiled eye to the door and saw a shadow looming on the other side, peering in through the crack where the uneven surface didn't meet with the rest of the metal. He wasn't sure if that was Bludfist or one of the other Predacons but across his internal comm he heard the words; _"... there she goes..."_ followed by some audible snickers from the other room.

As an invisible spectator Dinobot had no choice but to watch this memory play out to its conclusion, and he already knew that it wasn't going to be a good one. He settled into place, looked down at the floor, and just waited for it to be over.

When it was, Diamondback stretched her arms and legs out along the bed and released a long sigh. "That was what I've been missing. Something tender and sweet. Thank you, Quarrel."

"M' pleasure," Rattrap murmured, using her breastplate as a pillow. He was already half asleep.

"Poor baby," she cooed, stroking his head. "You've been up for so long. What did that nasty captain of the Starwreath do to you?"

"Flat-afted piece of crud," he muttered in drunken annoyance. "I wuz supposed to be a Security officer. I thought it wuz gonna be my big break but I wuz just a joke to him. Slag 'im anyway. Slag 'em all," he nuzzled her chest and started to doze off.

She had no intensions of letting him do that just yet. "Such an important position on such a well-known ship! Surely there must have been something serious onboard for them to hire someone as smart and skilled as you to oversee it."

Rattrap pulled back and appeared to seriously consider her words. "Well yeah, it was pretty cool-"

Dinobot's optics widened in alarm. "Shut up, vermin," he cautioned.

"- the Starwreath, see... It gets used for mining ops a lot of the times but 'cause it's designed as a transport ship, nobody pays it any mind. See, the real deal with it is-"

"SHUT UP, VERMIN!" Dinobot shouted.

"- it's got this state-of-the-art drilling module, see? The damn thing can sniff out energon from almost any depth and then shoots a laser t' extract it. I was s'pposed to make sure it adjusts okay t' rough space flight but that thing's steady as a rock! It's a one of a kind deal. The engineers haven't even started t' replicate it yet."

"Is that a fact?" Diamondback asked with polite interest. "And where, precisely, is the Starwreath right now?"

And, still numb from an over consumption of Afterburn and giddy from the recent sex, Rattrap actually told her.

Dinobot slapped a hand to his forehead. "Idiot," he muttered under his breath and slowly shook his head in dismay.

Rattrap passed out and the memory faded to black. There was a pause as the aliens rifled through the disjointed mess of the Maximal's datatracks and came up with the next ones in succession. Dinobot found himself back in the small downtime chamber of the Predacon apartment with the little bot beginning to stir on the hard bed. The light in the windows didn't change; Cybertron's tech net remained lit throughout the planet's revolution cycle, and there was no visible chronometer, but the soldier got the impression that a great deal of time had passed. Half a day, perhaps even more.

"Oh slag, my head!" Rattrap moaned, clutching his face with both hands in an attempt to block out the light. He abruptly rolled over and vomited a gout of undigested Afterburn on the ceramic floor. When he was finished, he limply lied on his side. "Why, oh _why_ do I do this to myself? Every damn time..." he grumbled in disgust, wiping his mouth with an unsteady hand. He tried to sit up and managed on the third attempt and sat there, cradling his aching mainframe between his hands, moaning.

There was the sound of the apartment's front entrance opening followed by laughter and Dinobot looked at the bedroom's door in alarm. "Rodent, if you can hear me at all I would suggest that you vacate these premises immediately."

Of course, Rattrap couldn't. He just sat there, oblivious, until the door opened and another of Bludfist's comrades, this one a Flyer going by the name of Shrike, peered in. "Holy flak!" he said in surprise. He turned to the other room and called out; "You aren't gonna believe it. He's still here!"

A few seconds after that, Diamondback and Bludfist walked into the room. In the short (or long?) time that the Maximal was unconscious, the pair appeared to have gone through a startling transformation. The soldier had changed his bright silver and gray color scheme for one that was dark and camouflaged, and all of the scales of armor along Diamondback's body were engaged in cloaking fields, mirroring the textures of everything she came up against. It was an adaptation for Subterfuge models and one only reserved for those on missions requiring expert stealth.

Diamondback was a Spy.

"Well well, so he is," she said neutrally. That teasing, pleasant note had gone out of her voice and it was now as cold as ice. "How do you feel, Quarrel?"

"Like slag," he groaned, squinting painfully at her. "Hey! Look'it you. Did I miss something?"

Hammerhide and Shrike chuckled from their place at the door. Bludfist crossed his arms and bared his teeth in that intimidating grimace of amusement again. "You could say that. We've just been out shopping."

"I brought you back a present," Diamondback said and threw something in his lap.

Blinking in confusion, Rattrap picked it up and examined it curiously. It was a Maximal insignia with a scrap of white fur and pseudo-flesh still clinging to the metal. He dropped it in a hurry when he recognized it and backed away in horror. "Aw slag-!"

"Your former Captain sends his regards," she said with a broad smile and then shrugged. "Or at least he would... if he was still online, that is."

"Which he isn't," Bludfist added with a snort.

"You sons of bots-" he started to rise to his feet and Diamondback pushed him easily back down. "What going on?" he shouted helplessly. "What the slag did you do?!"

"It's like Blud said, sweetheart," she said, running a teasing claw along his cheek. He slapped the hand away in anger. "Thanks to you, we've now got the most unique piece of hardware in the system. Once the Tripredacus Council gets their hands on this little gem, our concerns about energon rationing will be a thing of the past."

Rattrap optics lit up in shock. "You used me!"

"You let yourself get used," Bludfist told him. "It was easy to manipulate you because, deep down, you wanted revenge on your peers for how they treated you. You told us everything we wanted to know about the Starwreath and its cargo because you _wanted_ this to happen-"

"I did not!" he shouted, pressing the heel of his hand to his aching forehead and grimacing. "Agh, you slagging, back-stabbing Preds! I trusted you!" He cast his wounded, scared gaze to the only female in the room. "How could you do this to me?"

She stared back impassively and actually had the audacity to offer him a gloating smile. "I told Blud that you would have your uses. He wanted to scrap you on first sight. But I told him to hold off until you could provide us something of worth. I never would have expected that it would have a pay-off like this! An energon-sniffing prototype." She blew him a kiss, "Thank you, lover."

With a snarl of fury, the Maximal jumped to his feet, stumbled, and tried to draw his pistol. He was terribly uncoordinated and by the time the weapon was freed, Bludfist had pulled his dagger free and stabbed it through the smaller bot's hand. Diamondback swept in and claimed the gun when Rattrap fumbled and dropped it.

"Another present," she marveled as she examined the hardware before making it disappear in her subspace pocket. "This is _definitely_ my lucky day."

Cradling his wounded hand, Rattrap edged away from the bed and tried to sidestep his way towards the nearest window. "Aw, c'mon guys! If this is-y'know, some sort of sick joke, I ain't laughing! Just tell me it's some sort of twisted Pred initiation thing, eh? Huh?" he looked desperately at Diamondback again and his voice dropped to one of pleading, "...Please?"

The female only stared coldly back at him.

"We no longer have any further need of you, Quarrel," Bludfist said coldly. "It's time you left our city. Preferably in pieces."

"Look, Blud ol' buddy-"

"I'm not your buddy. I was never your friend," the soldier said, advancing on him. "And my name, you miserable little flakker, is Bludfist!" With that, he proved his namesake as chrome knuckles rained down upon the helpless Maximal in powerful blows. Rattrap didn't have a chance and fell to the floor, curling up into a helpless ball, his small form contorting in pain each time Bludfist made contact. Even more pathetic was the fact that he was still trying to reason with the crazed soldier and, when that didn't work, actually called out to Diamondback for help. She simply stood by and allowed this punishment to continue.

His own fists clenched in anger, Dinobot tried to arm his lasers and found them off line. He moved in to separate the two but his hand went through the attacking soldier. Frustrated, he paced the small confines of the room restlessly, watching the assault and unable to do anything to stop it. He didn't like Rattrap, and probably never would, but what was happening here was wrong even by Predacon standards. They had manipulated and humiliated him, and now Bludfist was beating him just for the sheer joy of it. There was no logic to the act; it was just blind, senseless aggression.

"Remember your Code! Where is your honor?!" Dinobot shouted to the other soldier in disgust. "He's unarmed and defenseless! Stand down!"

But the beating continued.

By the time that the huge soldier stepped back, breathing heavily from his efforts, Rattrap was almost offline. His entire form was dented from the blows, limbs were damaged, and mech fluid was seeping out of tears in his armor, puddling around his contorted body. He was shaking in shock and pain, actually trying to rise, and Diamondback knelt down beside him and placed a gentle hand on one broken shoulder. "It's nothing personal, Quarrel-"

"Speak for yourself," Bludfist grunted over by the door where the other two bots growled in agreement.

"- but we need time to leave Cybertron before Maximal Security detects us. We can't take the risk that you'll turn us in. After all, look at how you just betrayed your own kind." She shook her head in dismay. "This is the only way to ensure you'll stay silent for the short term."

"Not... fair," the little bot sputtered, choking up fluids from some internal rupture. "You... used me... I-I trusted y-you- I-"

"Never trust a Pred, honey," she said, kissing his forehead. Rising swiftly to her feet, she kicked the Maximal across the face as hard as she could. His body smashed into the far wall and remained there, going into sudden stasis lock.

Again, the memory faded to black.

Dinobot figured that was the end of the playback, and it was enough to give him some pause for deep consideration. He was just starting to process the information when the lights snapped back on and he found himself standing in what looked to be a repair facility. Judging by the rows of the above ground regeneration tanks along the wall, it wasn't difficult to tell what alliance this station appeared to be in. Two Maximal Security bots were standing at stiff attention besides one chamber that was presently cycling down and Rattrap had no more than taken one step out of the unit when the pair grabbed him by the arms and led him down the corridor into a private room.

"Hey! What the slag?!" the Maximal protested, fighting their grips. "Lemme go ya apes!" The pair shoved him into the room and slammed the door shut, locking it from the outside. He hammered on it in futility before it registered he wasn't alone.

"Quarrel. D8WC9-4G. Last assignment: Security officer on board the Starwreath," read an officious looking Maximal seated at the end of one small table. He looked up at the small bot gravely. "Greetings. I am Chief Investigator Bearsonic. At 06:45:12 there was a raid upon the Starwreath. The Captain was scrapped beyond recovery and the top secret cargo was stolen. Where were you yesterday?"

"Obviously scrapped myself, or I wouldn't'a woken up in your blasted CR chamber!" Rattrap fumed, choosing a far corner and crossing his arms in defiance.

"You were found on the outer limits of Pitch over six megacycles ago. What were you doing there?"

The Maximal regarded his authoritative counterpart for a long minute before he reluctantly admitted; "I went into the city to party."

"When did you leave Cybertropolis?"

"Shortly after ten, there was a whole crowd gathered outside of my building who can confirm it, too," he said, frowning at the memory. "I got in Pitch around eleven and ran into a gang. They scrapped me on sight. That's all I remember."

Dinobot snapped his head up in surprise.

Bearsonic nodded slowly as he entered the data into a pad. "Is there a possibility that your core processor might have been hacked?"

"Anything's possible. I was offline, remember?"

Nodding slowly to himself, the older Maximal prompted; "Is there any other information that you can provide? The identity of the Predacons that attacked you, perhaps? This is a very serious offense as you can understand."

"Oh yeah, I understand all right," Rattrap said soberly. "Unfortunately all Preds look alike to me. I can't tell you what I don't know."

Standing beside him, Dinobot considered the other bot in confusion trying to figure out his motives in keeping up with the lie. He would have thought that the pest would have ratted (pun intended) out his associates in Pitch without a second's hesitation. A part of it probably had to do with self-preservation; admitting to knowing Bludfist and Diamondback would have pulled him into their ring as an unwilling accomplice to a very serious crime and implicated him. He had to protect his own tail first, which was a thing that Dinobot observed he was extremely proficient in doing.

"You're no stranger to us, you know that, don't you?"

"...Yeah, I know it."

"Disorderly conduct, assault, petty theft, harassment, public intoxication-" he broke off and fixed the Maximal with a glowering stare. "Need I continue?"

Rattrap shrugged.

"All nuisance charges, fortunately," the Officer relented after a long pause, leaning back in his seat. "No indication of treason or grand theft... You're a loyal Maximal citizen of Cybertron, am I right?"

Gritting his teeth, Rattrap told him, "You bet I am and I don't appreciate you suggesting otherwise!"

The Officer held up his hands in surrender. "Calm down. We obtained some footage on the spaceport just before the raid that confirmed there were four intruders on the premises. No one among them matched your size."

"That a short joke?"

"Just a fact," Bearsonic said patiently. "What surprises me is that I've told you that your previous Captain was scrapped and you didn't appear to register any concern."

"That's because I didn't like him."

"I'll have you know that I've already conversed with the bridge crew. You had quit your position as Security officer the day before amid a heated argument that was witnessed by three people. You were overheard telling Wolfbane that you would get even with him, eventually."

Rattrap chose this moment to keep his mouth shut and it obviously took quite an effort, if his tightly, vibrating form was any indication. He tried to maintain his level glare with the suspicious official and was having a rough time of it.

"Something isn't right here," Bearsonic concluded, reading the other's body language with an experienced eye and finely tuned sensors. "You're lying about something, your infrared signature is all over the map, but I can't quite pin down precisely what."

"I've toldja all I know," Rattrap repeated stubbornly.

"And I suppose a stay in detention wouldn't improve your memory?"

"There's nothing to improve. I keep telling you that I was offline!" he shouted in frustration.

"Oh, that's right. My mistake." The Investigator tented his fingers beneath his chin as he became lost in thought. "Holding you here won't accomplish anything, I can see that plain as day. I suppose that I have no choice but to let you go-"

Rattrap immediately turned and began hammering on the door to be let out.

"- but I'm ordering you to stay on the planet until I've completed my investigation. Is that clear?"

"As glass," he muttered, listening to the locks on the other side of the door being unsealed.

The door opened and he ran into the chestplate of one of the two Security guards standing guard, not permitting him an escape. Bearsonic took advantage of the lapse and called over to him; "It could be a week or a month. You are to stay on Cybertron for that entire time or I'll haul you into detention myself. I mean it, Quarrel-

"Yeah, yeah, I heard you. I got no job t'go to anyway. Can I go?"

The two armed Maximals cast their superior a questioning glance and, after a long pause, he waved them off. With a huff of breath, Rattrap pushed his way through the part in the bodies and hauled tail out of the Security building. When he reached the street, he stood on the curb and ran a shaky hand back and forth along the top of his head. "Oh slag, that was just too fragging close for comfort!" he whispered under his breath. "Flakking Diamondback and Bludfist! No way in the Pit am I gonna let them get away with this. No flakking way!" he finished the last in a shout of rage and ran down the street.

He hopped on one moving transport as it swept past, holding onto the external metal grating with a firm grip. In the background, Dinobot had no choice but to give chase and he was NOT happy with this new game of playing tag. He fondly wished he could utilize his beast mode that was more suited for this kind of foot race but transforming, like his weapons, was not an option. He had no choice but to try and follow the vehicle under his own power, cursing the aliens with every profanity existing in his mainframe as he did so.

Crossing the city, Rattrap finally jumped off the vehicle and landed easily on the curb of a residential district. He walked slowly along the sidewalk as he counted buildings. At the end of the street, he craned his head up to look at the smooth lines of the last residence. "Here we are."

As he walked up the stairs, Dinobot finally caught up to him, huffing and puffing, and sat his exhausted bulk down on the bottom step as he struggled to get his breath back. He was a surprisingly fast runner for his size and weight but it was good only for short distances. This extended sprint was definitely not a high point of his already very long day. Under his breath, he was still cursing the aliens with each tortured wheeze; _"-arrogant, useless, manipulative sons of bitches-"_

Stepping up to a console set beside the door, Rattrap entered a code and waited impatiently. A few seconds later came a female voice; _"Residence 17A, Battleaxe speaking."_

"Howdy babe!" Rattrap said with forced good humor.

The recognition was instantaneous_. "... Quarrel."_

"Now, I know that I'm not in your good graces right now-"

"_-I'm going to hang up-"_

"I just want to speak to Rhinox!" he said quickly. "Please-_Pleeease_ Battleaxe! It's serious. Just let me speak to him for a sec, awright? Huh?"

There was a long pause and then a recognizable voice came out of the speaker. _"Hey Quarrel, what's up?"_

Rattrap leaned against the wall in relief. "Ol' buddy, am I glad to finally hear a friendly face." He tried to laugh and it came out as a choked garble of sound. He rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand. "I... really need your help."

"_I'll be right down,"_ his friend said quickly.

The large engineer soon emerged from the building's entrance and he was little changed now than from when Dinobot first laid eyes on him; at least he didn't have half of a mouth glued to his chestplate any more, which was an improvement in design. The green bot led his small friend over to the stairs and they sat there together for a few seconds in silence. Finally, the larger Maximal asked, "What's wrong?"

"Oh buddy, I am in a pickle," Rattrap muttered. "Is that offer with the Axelon still open?"

Rhinox's eyes widened in alarm. "Why? What did you do?"

"I just, y'know... quit my last job, is all. I'm in a bit of a bind," that at least was true, anyway.

"Debts?"

"Uhm, no. Not exactly."

The large technician sighed gravely. "When I offered you the Navigator job the last time, you said that you didn't want anything to do with any exploration mission. In your own words I believe you said; 'I ain't gonna let myself get stuck way out in boring space with nothing to do and nobody to see'!"

"The sitch's changed. Is the job still open?"

"Well..."

"Is it or isn't it?!" Rattrap snapped.

His large friend cast him a tolerant glare. "Easy, calm down. Optimus Primal is a new Captain so he's having trouble finding experienced crew. The position is still open if you want it. Just remember, it's a two-year tour."

"It ain't long enough," the small bot murmured.

"What was that?"

He shook his head. "Nothin'. I owe you a big one. When do we leave for space?"

"End of the week. I'll come get you -"

"Uh, I got kicked out of my apartment-"

"Again?!" Rhinox asked in disbelief.

The little Maximal offered him a lame shrug. "I thought I had a place to stay but that..." he trailed off and became lost in thought. "Well, that just didn't work out like I hoped it would," he finished in a voice very different from his usual brassy tone.

Rhinox slowly shook his head. "Battleaxe would tan my hide if I let you move in with us again. I'm sorry. Besides, this is her last week on Cybertron, too. She's serving a term on one of the moon bases. We kind of wanted to spend that time together, if you know what I mean," he spared his young friend a sly wink.

In the background, Dinobot tried to suppress a shudder of disgust.

"You're a lucky bot, Big Green," Rattrap said listlessly. "It's okay. I'll find a place to shack up for the short term. Just call me on my personal comm when you're ready to go."

Passing him a congenial slap on the back, Rhinox hauled himself up to his feet and started for the front of the building. He suddenly turned and spared his friend a look of concern. "Are you sure that you're going to be all right?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine."

"You're not going to go stay in Pitch are you?"

Rattrap winced and he had to look away. "Naw, those days are over. I'm staying put right here in Cybertropolis. You can bet your chain guns on _that_."

"Glad to hear it. I'll see you soon," his friend said, passing him a wave, and went back into the building.

Sitting alone on the step, Rattrap watched him until he was out of sight and then turned his troubled gaze back to the rest of the city. His small shoulders slumped with weariness and despair. Reaching behind his back, he pulled an object out of his subspace pocket and regarded it with a deep concentration. Dinobot was not surprised to see that it was Wolfbane's insignia; ripped from his offline body by a Predacon who Rattrap had thought was once his friend. And possibly more.

"Diamondback..." the small Maximal said under his breath, squeezing his fingers around the small object so tightly that his fist trembled. He suddenly looked up with blazing optics, "Never trust a Pred. You got that right, babe. Never again!"

He got back to his feet and walked down he steps to return to the curb, looking around as if unsure of what course to take, or quite where to go. It was precisely that sort of indecision that had haunted him ever since he first came online; programmed as the representative of one faction but doomed to possess the darker, more restless nature of the other. As he finally turned and walked across the street towards some unknown destination, the surroundings around Dinobot went dark and he found himself standing in the rodent's mainframe again.

"NOW YOU KNOW," the probe told him.

"Yes," Dinobot said out loud, although he doubted any response was really necessary. The aliens appeared to be able to pluck his thoughts out straight from his processor. Still, he acknowledged the declaration just the same, becoming lost in thought.

The probe went silent as he did so, as if its point had been made. The soldier supposed that it had, although the logic of displaying these particular datatracks possessed no tactical advantage for the aliens that he could fathom. It had merely showed him why the despicable rodent distrusted Predacons, and him in particular. Rattrap had been betrayed by a faction he envied, expertly manipulated by a skilled Spy intent on information gathering, beaten near to death by an Infantry soldier he had thought was his friend.

Dinobot realized that Rattrap had voluntarily returned to space, not to escape a possible stay in Maximal Security but for a motive as old as time; revenge. He had been hoping to cross paths with his old Predacon associates and settle a personal score. Nothing more or less. When he and the rest of the crew of the Axelon had crossed paths with the Darkside, and the space battle had resulted in them both crashed landing on this miserable planet, all of the little Maximal's frustrations and resentments over being denied that closure intensified. It stood to reason that his hatred and anger was now focused on the only other target available: On the new member of their crew who represented everything he had lost, and everything about the Predacon breed he now loathed.

Dinobot had changed sides at the worst possible moment.

Even worse, he didn't know how to resolve it.

* * *

Part Three: Rattrap witnesses the first encounter between Megatron and Dinobot. 


	3. Chapter 3

KNOW YOUR ENEMY – Part Three of Four

Written and posted in 2007 © by SolitaryHawk

* * *

Rattrap tried to feel around his general area, his splayed fingers finding nothing solid. It felt like he was walking on firm ground but when he reached down to examine the surface, his fingers found only empty air. His straining optics registered inky blackness not even his infrared imaging could penetrate. It was exactly how Optimus had described the sensation: Being suspended in an unending void. At least he was all right, which was a surprise. Dinobot hadn't underplayed his one word description of the alien attack. Not one bit. The little Maximal felt as if his internal circuits had been frying. But now he was functioning fine. Blind as the proverbial bat, mind you, but just fine and dandy. 

And alone.

"Hey! Dinobutt! Do you hear me?" he called out. His words seemed to echo in the stale air, giving the impression that he was in some sort of immense cavern. He tried his comlink and found it inoperable. He went back to shouting. "Yo! You out there lizard lips? Hey-!"

"!!SCANNING: ..." A monotonous voice suddenly blasted at him from all angles at once.

"_Agh!"_ Rattrap clamped his hands down over his audio receptors as the words assaulted him like a physical blow.

"UNIT SERIAL CODE: 4K21A-T4

PERSONAL IDENT: Indigo

CALL SIGNS: Anarchy, Carrion, Dinobot (IDENT: Current), Penance, Wargame.

FACTION: Predacon

GENDER: Male

STATIONED: Battalion I, Charr

DESIGNATION: Infantry Model

SPECIALIZATION: Front Line Combat

REGIMENT: Talon

MILITARY RANK: Beta Class

SECURITY LEVEL: 2

CONJUGAL ALLY: 6B38T-C8 (IDENT: Shade)

PROGENY: 7K38P-C5 (IDENT: Raze)

ASSIGNMENT: A-Class Transwarp Reaper / IDENT: Darkside

COMMANDING OFFICER: 9H45D-J6 (IDENT: Megatron)

MISSION: Classified

CURRENT STATUS???

STATUS???

STATUS STATUS STATUS STATUS STATUS STATUS STATUS STATUS STATUS STATUS STATUS STATUS STATUS STATUS STATUS STA-!!"

"Awright! Awright! Enough already!" Rattrap screamed at the top of his mechanized lungs. _"STOP IT RIGHT NOW YOU SONS A BIT-!"_

There was a moment of silence then: "SCANNING: ...

RESULT: Unit Dinobot is finally off-line."

_Sounds like somebody put up a fight_, Rattrap thought with satisfaction, shaking his head to clear the ringing after-effects of the probe's scan. He hoped that chopperface got in some good slashes with his sword before they got him under. Whoever '_they'_ were, anyway. He didn't know why he was hearing the result's of Dinobot's scan instead of his own but he wasn't complaining. A robot model designed for gathering information, he absorbed the soldier's technical specs with almost greedy interest.

Before he could play back the scan for consideration, he was suddenly assaulted by a blinding white light and he shut his optics off just in case they got flash burned. He wasn't feeling any heat and gradually turned them on again, squinting fiercely against the sudden brilliance. Beside him, a large screen had winked on displaying a screen capture and a date/time stamp in the lower left corner. To his right another came on, then in front and behind him. As if a switch had been turned on, a steady progression of screens snapped on above, beside, and below him in sudden, unsettling rapidity. The images were stacked in steady progression and went further than his optics could reach, even with a zoom lens.

"Fer bootin' up cold..." Rattrap said unsteadily, craning his head around. He was looking at places he didn't recognize, all depicting bots he didn't know. When he looked at one image closer, he saw the Predacon insignia on the other bot's shoulder. That was when he realized that all of the file names and date stamps were written in Predacon code.

"Primus," he whispered, realizing the truth even if he couldn't understand how it was possible.

He was trapped in Dinobot's mainframe surrounded by the soldier's personal datatracks.

_Ah, this is just too good an opportunity to pass up!_ Rattrap thought as he rubbed his hands together with rising excitement. With the nosiness and lack of remorse for which his very model was based on, he set out to see just what made his stubborn rival the insufferable son of a bot that he was. He quickly discovered that Dinobot's memory files were extremely compartmentalized; organized with such rigid precision that the little Maximal figured it small wonder the former Pred was as tightly wound as he was. There wasn't a file out of order, or lacking a date/time stamp, and there were a _lot_ of them.

The information stored here represented over two hundred stellar cycles worth of data. Rattrap sought out a summary node that revealed that the soldier had gone through four other planetary wars requiring the use of his transformation cog. The data display also showed that he had served over seven hundred missions of varying levels of difficulty throughout his lengthy service. "Holy slag," the Maximal murmured in shock as he kept reading. At one point, more than five hundred pounds of armor and weapons had been welded to this superstructure transforming him into a war machine without equal.

For some reason, the summary ended at a point about twenty years back with no further explanation.

Rattrap craned his head around, looking at memory banks that went on further than his eyes could see. He looked up, down, and around, feeling extremely small and vulnerable in this immense labyrinth. He suddenly looked up again, frowning in confusion. As if walking an invisible staircase, he ascended several dozen levels until he reached the site that had caught his interest. This entire level was almost black, the screen images so dark that it was impossible to decipher them.

"What the slag-? Ouch!" He had reached out to tap one of the screens and recoiled from a shock that numbed his arm to the elbow joint.

Dinobot's personal computer immediately came online in response to the intrusion:_ "//Access denied. Datatracks F4L- 2 through to N9S-98 are encrypted to prevent random retrieval."_

Shaking his stinging hand, Rattrap snapped, "Encrypted by who?"

"_//The Host unit initiated the action."_

That made absolutely no sense to the Maximal. Why the slag would Dinobot deliberately take such a drastic action to block out his own memories? "Look, maybe I just don't unders-"

"OVERRIDE ENCRYPTION."

Rattrap slapped his hands down over his audio receptors again as the probe began to challenge the onboard computer.

"//Ac-access de-denied... data-" 

"OVERRIDE."

There was a mutter of desultory static, and then a long pause before the blackened level of datatracks slowly lit up, one right after another. "//Access granted," the computer said in surrender.

None of this felt right to Rattrap. He should have been pleased to no end to have unlimited admission to all of this forbidden data. _It was a spy's dream to come true!_ Access to an enemy's entire repository of classified information: knowledge of training, bases, military secrets, alliances, maneuvers, missions- The Maximal's head swam with the possibilities of what knowledge might be gained here. It was all intelligence that the Maximal Elders of Cybertron would be drooling to get their claws on and possibly use to neuter the damned Preds once and for all.

The screens were flickering on and then off again as the probe ran through the released datatracks with the detachment of a librarian. Rattrap derived no sense of accomplishment at the sight, or felt the motivation to act on his programming and start downloading the Intel for Optimus to review later. This was Dinobot's mainframe: That overgrown, Bronto-brained, fossil-faced, scaly-assed, untrustworthy Pred-

_Just before the probe attacked, Dinobot, wounded, looked over at him and shouted: "Run!" _

"_But you-!"_

"_There's no time, rodent! GO!" _

His small shoulders slumped in remorse as he recalled the brief memory. While the situation was unique, the soldier's behavior was not; He had behaved selflessly on the behalf of other Maximals before. Rattrap always liked to believe that the action was based on some ulterior motive but, over time, nothing ever reveled itself. Right now, as before, he wasn't quite sure what to make of that...

"ACCESSING DATATRACK F8V-5," the probe announced. "COMMENCING PLAYBACK-"

"Yeah, that's fine. You go do that," Rattrap muttered, his previous enthusiasm gone. He appeared to take a seat on an invisible box and crossed his arms. "I don't want nothin' to do with this slag. I'm just gonna plant my pink hairless butt right here while you go and-"

"-NOW," the alien voice finished.

"_Whoa!" _The surrounding screens all disappeared as Rattrap wasn't so much as pulled directly into the selected datatrack as forcibly _thrown_. When he fell, it was on cold, barren ground, devoid of any traces of vegetation. Ancient pillars of rock and what looked like abandoned alien ruins stretched off into the bleak horizon line, to be lost in far-off dust storms. Lightening crackled overhead but there was no concussion of sound that usually followed such displays. The overhead clouds were a sickly churning green. Rattrap recognized the place even though the latest pictures he'd seen had to have been at least hundreds of stellar cycles out of date.

He was standing on Charr; the ancient refuge of the outcast Decepticons.

A couple of klicks off in the distance he caught sight of a sprawling base flanked by strategically placed emplacements. Spotlights swept back and forth across the ruined sky and it looked like weapons testing were being conducted off in one deserted field. Over in another, there was a mobilized regiment of soldiers, at least one hundred strong, practicing maneuvers. Shuttles and transports came and went with unsettling regularity in the nearby spaceport. Rattrap knew that Galvatron had once made Charr his base of operations, rallying the outcast Decepticon forces together while scheming over a way to take back Cybertron. What the Maximal was seeing now was not some overhauled relic from the past made serviceable by a battalion of soldiers. He was witnessing a state-of-the-art military base that appeared to be centered on providing intense battle training. The fact that they were doing this so far from Cybertron meant only one thing:

The Predacons were mobilizing their forces in preparation for war.

"Rust me silly," he whispered under his breath. Getting slowly to his feet, he tested his footing and couldn't understand how he was feeling actual substance beneath him. Or how he could taste the ash in the air with each breath he took. Hell, he could even feel the low vibrations of approaching footfalls -

Wait a minute. A_pproaching footfalls?_ "Aw no-!" He threw himself to one side as a body slammed through one of the rock piles to his left, pulverizing it into smaller rubble. A tall Predacon stirred in the debris and got slowly to its feet, displaying a lithe form designed for stealth and swift action. Its color scheme was black and dark red and from the forehead to the small of its back radiated sharp ebony spikes, all erect in agitation. Before Rattrap's stunned eyes, the bot turned in his general direction, gray optics glaring with rage, and suddenly reached behind for several of its spikes.

"Hey, now wait a minute-!" Rattrap was quickly backing up, hands outstretched in surrender. "I ain't interested in a rumble, buddy-"

The bot pulled two spikes free, transforming them into daggers and, with a scream that was distinctly female, threw them as hard as she could. Rattrap flinched as they passed harmlessly through his body and he looked down as his undamaged torso in surprise and relief.

"Nice toss," taunted a voice behind him and the Maximal whirled around in surprise, recognizing that strained growl.

Dinobot was standing there, casually holding onto the weapons with a slanted smile on his blue features. Rattrap recognized him right away even though his structure now lacked the organic components he had gained when they had all crashed on the planet together. Even so, his chest and arms were about the only things different now; being full robot-mode. His chassis was blue, broken up by the silver 'ribs' that added to his armor plating, and his arms were silver chrome with forearms that were elaborate gauntlets matching the unique coverings on his lower legs. His hands had five fingers and an opposable thumb, and all were tipped with a razor-sharp claw.

"Not good enough, obviously," the female snarled in response to the huge Predacon's comment. "You're still standing!" with that she leapt at him, flying through Rattrap who squawked again, flinching in reaction.

The two antagonists collided and went rolling down a nearby hill in a flurry of growls, disturbed dirt, and sparks as their claws raked against each other. Rattrap followed their frenzied course without moving and that was when he finally realized that he was only a spectator inside of Dinobot's memory, watching these events along with the alien probe. Why he wasn't seeing things chiefly from the soldier's viewpoint escaped him and he sensed that it had to do with technology far beyond his reckoning. _Whatever the case, it certainly made for one hell of a movie-!_

The pair rolled to a stop and parted, circling each other warily. The female drew weapons first, pulling out two more spikes from her back and transforming them into twin katanas. Dinobot reached behind his back and pulled out his broadsword just as she pounced in, and he blocked the attack with the larger weapon easily. Sparks flew from the force of the blow.

Glaring at one another over the deadlock, they snarled like two beasts, moving their faces in so close that their noses were almost touching. Teeth were bared in challenge-

They abruptly kissed.

The confrontation was over as weapons were thrown aside and they coupled roughly. Trying to offer them a modicum of privacy, a completely flustered Rattrap lowered the volume on his audios and kept his back to them (although, every once in a while, he _did_ throw the odd glance over his shoulder in their general way). He couldn't figure out why the probe was dead set on accessing _this_ particular datatrack, or –perhaps even more perplexing- why Dinobot had gone through all the hassle of encrypting these memories in the first place. From the looks of things, to say the soldier was enjoying himself was a vast understatement.

When they were finally through, Dinobot got to his feet with a weary grunt. "Time is short," he said brusquely. "We have less than a mega-cycle before reporting back to duty. What's my itinerary, _Shade_?"

Rattrap shook his head in annoyance. As far as he was concerned, this only justified his opinion that Predacons were a crazy, unstable breed: One second it had looked like a battle to the death, and the next the pair were carrying on like crazy lover-bots. Now they acted like casual business partners. Rattrap recalled Dinobot's specs in a hurry, trying to make sense of this. The name, Shade, came back to him: Conjugal ally.

"Holy frag," Rattrap muttered in disbelief, realizing what that meant.

Dinobot's mate smoothened down her spikes with a flourish, transforming them into a raven mane that reached down to the back of her knees. She consulted her memory banks and began to read aloud the day's agenda; "Epsilon2H7 scheduled a meeting with you. Likely to protest his transfer to Battalion V-"

"Tough. What else?"

"Routine drills. Unarmed combat training with Talon Company commences at-"

While the two talked, Rattrap saw a pile of earth behind them slowly begin to stir. At first he could only blink helplessly at this new sight, having reached the threshold of absorbing anymore input. The dirt parted to reveal a helmet where yellow optics glowed with acute interest. Slowly, silently, a medium-sized Predacon pulled itself out of its hiding spot-

"Uh, hey! Look out!" Rattrap called over to where the two Predacons were still conversing, apparently oblivious to this new threat. "Look behind you!"

They couldn't hear him of course. He was merely a spectator, not a participant in these events and he watched helplessly as the bot pulled itself to its full height, revealing a heavily armored form of dark red and yellow construction. He was holding an armed laserblade in his left fist and crept silently up behind the pair. When he reached a reasonable striking distance, he released an impatient scream and suddenly attacked.

Dinobot whirled, dropping down just as the laser sliced through the air above his head. Lashing out with a swift sidekick, he knocked the legs out from his would-be assailant. The soldier dropped to the ground with a dismayed shout and lost hold of his weapon. Plucking the blade easily out of the air, the larger soldier slammed it down through the hand of the young Predacon, impaling the appendage to the ground.

"Stealth first," Dinobot growled, placing one foot directly on the soldier's chassis and pinning him down with all of his considerable weight. "Then speed, _then_ strength. You know better, Zeta7K3."

"Sir! I-I only thought-"

"I don't train you to _think_!" Dinobot shouted directly into his face. "I train you to obey _orders_! Such impulsiveness will only get you scrapped in a battle!" He let the younger Predacon up and pulled the laserblade out of his hand, freeing him. "Report to the infirmary. We will discuss your punishment later."

"Yes, Beta4K2," the youth said humbly. He saluted them both, passing the female Predacon standing off to the side an embarrassed, plaintive look, and then turned and trotted quickly towards the immense base.

Once he was out of earshot, Dinobot suddenly rounded on his associate and snapped; "He gets that foolishness from _your_ side of the spark!"

Crossing her arms, the female said coolly, "_Raze_ was just trying to impress you."

"Then he should quit while he's ahead! I swear, Shade, sometimes I don't know why we ever-" He suddenly flinched as there was a resounding explosion from directly overhead.

"Thunder," she muttered, holding out her hand. "We'd best get indoors before the acid rains start. Those damned showers always ruin my enamel."

"That wasn't thunder," he told her and just as she was about to question him, an enormous spacecraft burst from the gas clouds and did a low flyby past the pair as it headed for the spaceport. Its long, angular hull was unmarked obsidian and it had two fins that looked like claws tapering towards the back of the craft.

She gasped. "That sounds like an A-Class Reaper!"

Resorting to his zoom lens, he examined it as best he could. "It appears to have a Transwarp refit. There's only one craft in the fleet that has that particular adaptation."

She turned towards him in surprise. "The Darkside?"

"Yes."

"That's Megatron's ship!"

"Megatron..." Dinobot's face tightened up in disgust. "Only an egotistical sadist would deliberately change his personal ident to _that_ designation."

"And that thought never crossed your mind, _Indigo_?"

He made a sound like he had been kicked below the waist.

She started laughing at his reaction. "Oh, come on! It's a cute name."

He made that sound again and grumbled, "For such a highly honored Combaticon as my sire was, he has absolutely no imagination. Named for a color. _Gah_."

"It could have been worse," she said with a grin. "He could have named you Sapphire."

He fixed her with a sullen glare but made no comment. He went back to studying the Darkside as it made preparations for landing. Judging by the way the ground forces were scurrying around trying to make space for the craft, Rattrap figured that this visit was far from expected. When he looked over at Dinobot, he caught sight of that usual tension in the Predacon's face. For some reason, the appearance of the ship seemed to be bothering him. "Gamma6B3."

"Back on the clock," she sighed, but there was no malice in her tone. "What are your orders, sir?"

"Alert Talon Company to prepare for a possible surprise inspection. I want full armor, all adaptations if possible, and complete armaments at the ready."

"Yes sir!" she turned and began running towards the base when he suddenly called her back with: "Keep this on the downside. Talon personnel only. If the other three Betas can't figure out what this visit means then scrap them. I want our unit to shine. Go!"

As Shade sped off with her orders, already calling the soldiers one by one on an encrypted channel reserved for their Company, Dinobot hung back and went back to staring at Megatron's craft. After a long, contemplative pause, he gave his head an irritated shake and headed quickly back to base

Less than an hour later his prediction came true when the base commander, Alpha1K0, called for all four infantry companies that made up the base's Battalion to assemble for inspection on the parade grounds. Rattrap was shocked to realize that Dinobot was the officer in charge of his particular unit with Shade acting as his second-in-command. He had at his disposal over one hundred soldiers; all young recruits armed to the teeth and wearing their battle armor, just as he had ordered. Three other battalions commanded an equal share of Predacons, making the total number almost five hundred strong. Rattrap couldn't believe his optics. All of them looked to be new models still in their first form, fresh from protoform encoding and development. They weren't clones, or drones, or autonomous droids; they were young, eager soldiers, all with unique, varied forms and functions and personalities of their own. Rattrap, like all Maximals, knew that Cybertron deliberately curtailed Predacon propagation in order to avoid exactly this scenario. Somehow, in some unknown fashion, their savage cousins had found a way around that interference and now their numbers were thriving.

"Frag me," Rattrap whispered, suppressing a chill in his fluids. He watched helplessly as Dinobot walked up the line, armor shining from the quick oil spray that had washed off the dirt and scratches from his earlier coupling. He inspected the recruits thoroughly before settling into attention beside Shade at the front of the unit. Compared to all of their highly polished armaments and tight formation, the other three companies; Fang, Spur, and Claw, came across as a disorganized jumble of incompetents.

Dinobot was almost chuckling as Megatron, flanked by the commander and a few lackeys, barely looked over the rival Companies before approaching his. Shade had to elbow him to stop his gloating and whispered, "Don't get cocky."

"Me? Never," he shot back with a grin, making her roll her optics in dismay.

"-and this is Talon Company under the direction of Beta4K2," the base commander was overheard saying as they approached. The Alpha was an immense weathered blue and gray model with faded yellow highlights and beginning to show the signs of his great age in the wear-and-tear of his bulky armor. The twin cannons on his back were irreparably pockmarked from long-ago battles. Rattrap thought that he looked familiar but couldn't put his finger on the name. Whatever the case, it was clear that the huge bot was a Decepticon, an indication that the old guard was still active and placed in positions of authority by Tripredacus Council where their age and battle experience could best be utilized.

For all of his size, the base commander still couldn't overshadow the purple-colored officer standing on his left. By Predacon standards, Megatron was considered an intimidating model in terms of both height and mass. He was well proportioned, his great weight fairly distributed throughout his structure allowing for both speed and strength. His design was unique, a clear representation of the new generation of Predacons currently infiltrating the military and swiftly rising through the ranks with their superior intellect and skills.

There was only one other soldier in this entire base that dared come close to him.

"Alpha9H4," Dinobot acknowledged, getting down to one knee in the formal military salute. Shade mimicked the stance and behind them, all of the soldiers followed suit with identical precision.

"On your feet, Beta4K2," Megatron ordered, deliberately sizing him up as he did so. In height Dinobot came up to his chin, which was no small feat, and easily matched his probing stare with no trace of discomfort or intimidation. The larger Predacon's smile broadened. "Very impressive, yes," he commented absently.

Dinobot wasn't sure if the Alpha was referring to him personally, or to his unit. "Thank you, sir."

And that was it. Megatron passed the Company an absent glance, nodded politely to Dinobot (ignoring Shade entirely), and then walked away with the Decepticon officer in tow, chatting idly about the base. Everyone remained in position until the commander finally passed the order over their comlinks: _"The inspection is over. Everyone stand down."_

There was a muttered undercurrent as soldiers began milling around, discussing the inspection in desultory tones. Shade made a wry face and looked up at her mate, commenting, "Is it just me or was that just damned peculiar?"

Looking equally baffled, Dinobot passed her a rare shrug.

"Well! Thanks again, Indigo!" the Beta officer of Spur Company came stomping over to where they were standing. "You made me and my soldiers look like total idiots! Why didn't you warn us there was going to be an inspection?"

Dinobot snorted. "As if you would have done the same were our positions reversed. Don't make me laugh."

A green and orange Flyer suddenly dropped down directly beside Dinobot and poked him in the shoulder. Hard. "Armorgator's right! You should have given all of the Betas a heads-up about an inspection."

"Spacecase, it was merely a calculated guess," the soldier said stiffly, "One that your obviously Afterburn-addled little mainframe didn't anticipate on its own."

"Was that an insult? Huh? I think that was an insult!"

"That was definitely an insult," the other Beta rumbled.

"Take it as you will," Dinobot said aloofly, crossing his arms and leveling them both with one of his patented condescending stares.

The aerial Beta assumed an exaggerated boxer's stance and began dancing around him while Armorgator clenched his fists and moved in threateningly. "Aw slag, here we go," Rattrap grumbled in dismay as the pair looked like they were readying a coordinated attack against the lone soldier. It seemed that Dinobot had the same penchant for ticking bots off here as he did on the Axalon. For some reason, though, he didn't seem to be reacting to the perceived threat.

There was perhaps fifteen seconds of building tension before all three burst out laughing. Rattrap looked to his huge rival in surprise, having never heard him laugh before. In the background, Shade rolled her optics at the display of male bravado and shook her head with a knowing little smile. _"Males... give me strength,"_ she muttered to herself.

"It's alright," Armorgator said, punching the soldier's shoulder hard enough to create sparks. "I would have done the exact same thing myself."

"Damned odd, though... this whole thing," Spacecase remarked, looking off towards the far section of the base that made up the main offices. It was where Alpha1K0 had led Megatron after their short-lived inspection. "Something doesn't feel right about it. Alphas don't just appear out of space like that. Especially not important ones like Megatron."

"Important?" commented a Gamma coming up to the trio. "Don't make me laugh! That purple prick only _thinks_ he's important."

"As ever, Boomslang, you speak the truth," Dinobot said in a low voice.

"You know him, don't you?" Armorgator asked shrewdly.

"I know _of_ him," the solder corrected. "He's a notorious loose cannon. Not even the Tripredacus Council can keep him on their leash for very long. Officers assigned to his crew have a nasty habit of getting scrapped."

"Well, well," commented a low, sultry voice in the background. "That certainly doesn't bode very well for you, does it Indigo?"

Dinobot stared at the new arrival with disdain. "What do you mean by that?"

"You didn't hear about it?" the last Beta officer said, sauntering over to them. The voice, and those distinctly svelte curves, were obviously female. Standing off to the side, Rattrap was coming to the conclusion that Predacon females were just about the sexiest things in armor he had ever seen. "My, my... will the wonders never cease?"

"What are you talking about, Fatality?" he snapped impatiently. Beside him, Shade's mane of spikes ruffled in agitation as the Beta came near. Rattrap could actually hear her growling deep in her throat and Dinobot discreetly kicked her in the shin to get her to shut up.

"Megatron is on a recruitment drive, Big Blue. He's searching for a worthy second-in-command," she explained, batting her green eyes at him and deriving another possessive growl from Shade. "Of all of us, you're the only one he talked to. I guess even _you_ must know what _that_ means."

Dinobot and Shade looked at one another with dawning realization while the others muttered amongst themselves in the background. Just then, the soldier's personal comlink snapped on: _"Beta4K2, report to my office immediately,"_ the base commander ordered.

"...Yes sir," he responded with a marked lack of enthusiasm.

Shade slapped a hand to her forehead. "Flak!"

"It was nice knowing you, handsome," Fatality said sweetly. "Don't forget to write."

The Alpha commander's office was on the far side of the base and Dinobot took his time walking over. Shade wanted to come with him but he ordered her to oversee the training drills of their unit. Further complicating the matter, Raze had overheard enough of the conversation to make a nuisance of himself. He was stationed with Fang Company, Fatality's regiment, and the damn Beta was enjoying every second as she made the situation that much worse for the young soldier with her thinly veiled innuendos. Rattrap sensed that there was some unresolved issue between Dinobot and the female Beta, if Shade's jealous reaction to her was any indication, but when the large soldier finally shouted at her to knock it off, Fatality relented and returned to her Company, with Raze reluctantly in tow.

Right now, the soldier approached the main office and wasn't even bothering to respond to the general hails of other soldiers. Rattrap knew from experience that when the Predacon 'shut down' emotionally, it meant that he was engrossed in deep thought and the end result was never a good one. When Dinobot finally reached his superior's door, he paused, straining his audio receptors to maximum so that he could listen in.

"-Including numerous commendations from the Tripredacus Council," came Megatron's unmistakable bass voice. "Impressive service record, his combat mission experience is extensive, far beyond even my expectations. All ending with successful outcomes and little to no losses. This pleases me, yes." There was a long pause and then, "His outdated honor code, however, _is_ a concern."

Alpha1K0 responded with, "It's deeply imbedded in his core programming. Has been since the moment he came online. Is that going to be a problem?"

"I won't know until I speak with him," Megatron said and suddenly called out in a louder rumble; "Why don't you come in, Beta4K2, so that we can begin?"

Dinobot backed up a step in surprise and grumbled under his breath before opening the door. Once inside, he cast Megatron a veiled glance before focusing his gaze solely on his base commander. "You requested my presence, sir?"

"Yes. Have a seat."

Dinobot changed his rigid posture to a more casual stance as he ignored the proffered chair. "I'd prefer to stand, sir."

"As you will," sighed the old Decepticon, giving up on the matter and nodding at the other Alpha to proceed.

"We have not been formally introduced, no. My rank is Alpha9H4 but I would prefer it if we could just become friends. You may call me Megatron," the huge Predacon said, smiling.

"Thank you," Dinobot responded and added, almost as an afterthought, "Alpha9H4."

Rattrap burst out laughing.

Megatron's optics narrowed in irritation to the deliberate rebuff. Seated at the desk, the old Alpha shook his head and began to get engrossed in some datawork, trying to appear invisible.

"Let me rephrase that, _Indigo_," he tried again. "I insist that we dispense with the formalities here."

Dinobot's mouth twitched. "Very well... _Megatron_."

"Excellent," his smile was back, as broad and false as ever. "I won't waste our valuable time with mundane small talk. To put things simply: I've come to Charr in search of a second-in-command. More specifically, I've come here for _you_." He pulled out a datapad and handed it over as he explained further, "Your transfer orders come straight from the Tripredacus Council. Everything has been arranged."

Dinobot nodded mutely as he read the data. He took his time, so long a time, in fact, that Megatron began getting restless. In exasperation, he finally turned to the other Alpha and rudely asked; "Is he slow?"

The base commander knowingly shook his head. "Just _extremely_ thorough. It can get damned bothersome at times."

Dinobot spared them both a resentful glance and went back to reviewing the information. When he was finally done, he said bluntly, "These orders are not legitimate."

Megatron whirled around in anger. "Explain!"

"The source code lacks the imbedded sigil of the Council. This is a forgery," he threw the datapad back to Megatron who fumbled with it, almost dropping the device in his shock.

"How dare you!" the purple Alpha sputtered. "I've told you these orders are genuine-"

"Then you won't object to an expert inspection." Dinobot slapped his chestplate and called, "Gamma7X4, your presence-"

Megatron abruptly crushed the datapad to pieces in his fist.

"Come back, Beta4K2? I didn't get the rest," came the response.

"False alarm. As you were," Dinobot said, severing the connection. He favored the larger Predacon with a spiteful glare; "I am not some inexperienced Beta you can fool easily with your tricks. I deserve an explanation."

"You are a subordinate and I am still Alpha," Megatron said slowly, on the edge of serious anger. "Whether I have approval of the Council or not is irrelevant. I only thought it would make the transition that much smoother out of consideration for the diversions you have here."

"...My 'diversions'," Dinobot repeated guardedly. He crossed his arms and began tapping his bicep with an errant finger. "Is _that_ what you call them?" he snarled with clear menace.

"Watch your tone, Beta4K2," the base commander cautioned.

Taking note of the defensiveness, the larger Predacon decided to switch tactics. "Your decision to remain on Charr is costing our breed a valuable resource. You are a Front Line Combat Specialist-"

"I know what I am, Megatron!"

"Do you? You've settled for training novices on some miserable scrap of rock! You are designed for battle and conquest, Indigo. You're meant for more than..." he motioned at the view port to the base lying beyond it, "..._that_." He spared the old Alpha a glance, "No offense."

The base commander offered him a distracted wave. "None taken."

"And I'm to assume that working for you would be an improvement?" Dinobot growled, his words dripping with sarcasm. "I rather doubt it."

"Last warning, Beta4K2," the old Alpha said harshly.

Megatron slammed his hands down on the desk, creating cracks across the stone surface. He leaned over until the two of them were directly face-to-face. "If trying to reach your sense of duty will have no effect, then how about your vanity? I have an inexperienced crew who need your expertise. I've no patience to indulge them. You are uniquely experienced, intelligent, and specifically skilled for my particular employ." Megatron took a deep breath and gritted his teeth as he forced himself to say; "I _need_ you onboard my ship."

The tension in Dinobot's face eased as he silently considered the larger Predacon's words. This time, Megatron wisely waited him out. "For how long?" he asked at last.

"Four stellar cycles."

"Brief tenure," the soldier mused. "This isn't a permanent placement, then. A mission posting? What are the details?"

"They're classified," Megatron said, and made the mistake of smiling again. "I'll be more than happy to fill you in when you accept the position. What do you say, Indigo?" He graciously extended his hand towards the other.

"Don't do it," Rattrap said beside him, knowing that he was wasting his time. These events had already been put into motion and the final result had stranded them all, Maximal and Predacon alike, on an alien world. He had to remind himself that this was just a memory; there was no changing its course, and the Maximal cringed in expectation of the next words to come out of his ally's mouth. "Ah, you dead-head Pred, stupid stupid stu-"

"No." Dinobot surprised all of them by saying, "My answer is no, Alpha9H4. I'm staying right here."

Rattrap started clapping.

Megatron lost it.

All along, Alpha1K0 had been acting like he was expecting Dinobot to be the problem. He was completely unprepared when Megatron threw over the heavy slab desk in his haste to get at the defiant soldier. He grabbed Dinobot by the throat and their momentum carried them both through the cinderblock wall and out onto the base grounds. Several soldiers had to get quickly out of the way to avoid getting smashed by the hail of debris.

Megatron managed to keep his balance and nailed the downed soldier with a precise kick in the right side that shattered two of the chrome ribs. Dinobot gripped his wounded side and tried to keep from screaming. When the Alpha moved in again, Dinobot rolled away just as the larger bot stamped down on the asphalt, the foot actually disappearing into the dirt. He leapt to his feet and the two locked arms and their brawl took them through another wall, this time landing in the middle of a debriefing. Two-dozen soldiers of various ranks had to scramble out of their way as the pair wrestled amid the rows of chairs, desks, and equipment.

Rattrap had seen the pair scrap before but what he had seen on the planet was nothing to match the savagery of the combat he was witnessing right now. The pair were so lost to their battle rage that they hadn't even thought to utilize their weapons yet. It was just down to rough and dirty hand-to-hand combat. Fists crashed into each other with the force of concessive shells and their usual bluster was lost to growls of rage and hatred.

Grabbing onto a pillar that was part of the roof support structure, Megatron hauled it free from its rivets and used it as a club to knock Dinobot to the ground. As the larger Predacon moved in for a more personal attack, the soldier managed to knock the feet out from under him. He grabbed Megatron's left foot and stomped his armored heel directly down on the knee joint while wrenching the rest of the leg upwards. There was the grinding of pistons, and several struts audibly snapped and Megatron gripped his mutilated leg and released an agonized bellow that echoed all over the base.

Dinobot was finally reaching for his sword when gray arms encircled his upper body, holding him with surprising strength. The base commander was pressed up behind him, growling into his helmet; "Stand down! That's an order!"

The grounds were full of soldiers still lingering around after the short-lived inspection, and a crowd was beginning to gather around the trio with astonishing speed. Brawls among soldiers with a Delta rank and below were fairly common, but there was nobody on the entire base that had ever seen one that involved an Alpha. Let alone two _and_ a Beta! Because of this fact there was very little conversation among the assembled Predacons, and certainly no cheers. Everyone seemed to be in the thrall of dumbfounded shock. Optics of varying colors were trained on the scene with astonished interest.

Megatron wrenched his leg back into place with a pained shout and stumbled backwards, almost falling when he tried to place his great weight on the damaged limb. Several soldiers moved in to help support him. He pointed at Dinobot and roared; "Seize him! He just attacked a superior officer!"

"You attacked me first!" Dinobot shot back, cradling his wounded side. "Alpha1K0 will attest to that!" he turned expectantly towards his commander.

"I didn't see anything," the old Alpha told him. There was a muttered undercurrent among the gathered crowd at his declaration.

"You-" Dinobot was at a complete loss for words. Unable to face the betrayal etched in the younger Predacon's eyes, the commander had to turn away from him.

"I demand reparations," Megatron snarled. "I want him racked. Fifty lashes!"

Alpha1K0 looked at him as if he were crazy. "A rack-? We don't have one of those here!"

Megatron was absolutely dumbfounded. "It's standard issue to deal with deserters-"

"This is Charr!" the commander shouted back. "Where else can they _go?_" This was joined in by a few affirmatives from the anxious audience.

Snarling in fury, the huge Predacon turned to the assembled soldiers and demanded; "One of you must have a laser whip. Hand it over!"

Nobody moved. Watching the situation as it steadily deteriorated, Rattrap noticed that many of the soldiers were exchanging glances, obviously torn between alliances. Dinobot was a Beta, and clearly held in quite high regard by peers and subordinates alike, but Megatron was an Alpha. As soldiers, they had no choice but to obey the rank.

Several whips came to the front of the group and were placed on the ground but no one claimed ownership. If anything, those standing closest to the weapons actually backed away from them. Megatron selected the first one he saw and turned it on. A rope of white light snaked out of the tip and scorched the ground it touched. He deliberately snapped it in the air and rounded on the soldier with a grin of pure evil etched on his face.

"Aw no," Rattrap moaned, knowing where this was going. In vain, he reached for his gun purely out of instinct and found his weapon was gone. He was being forced to watch this play out just like everyone else.

The base commander also knew what was coming and turned to his soldiers, shouting; "I want everyone to withdraw immediately! That's an or-"

"No!" Megatron overrode him. "I want you all to watch what happens to officers who are insubordinate! You need to learn that there are consequences-" he was interrupted by a hand falling on his shoulder.

He turned just in time to receive a chrome fist directly in the face. The sound of the blow reverberated throughout the grounds and Megatron was knocked completely off of his feet and sent skidding along the ground in a spray of sparks.

Dinobot shook his aching hand and declared, "If I'm to wear the title of 'insubordinate' then I'd best make it count." He pulled his sword free of its sheathe and started moving in for the kill when the Alpha commander grabbed hold of him again, trying to restrain him. Armorgator fought his way through the astonished crowd and rushed to help the Alpha. That broke the general paralysis of the main group and several soldiers of varying ranks split up; one side keeping the irate soldier contained and the others running over to help the fallen Alpha.

With a shout of rage, Megatron bowled over his would-be assistants and got to his feet, spitting out two broken teeth. Armorgator, a Predacon that was about as wide as he was tall, had managed to use his greater weight to pin Dinobot against the wall of the building but he was having a hard time keeping him there. The soldier almost managed to get free of that greater weight, thrashing in fury.

Clearing the distance between them, Megatron moved in until their noses were almost touching. "I'm going to flay the metal right off of your frame," he promised, brandishing the whip.

"Do your worst," Dinobot snarled back.

And he did.

When it was finally over, the base commander wanted to send him straight to the regeneration chamber but Megatron, completely out of breath from his efforts, would hear none of it. "Do you... at least have a Pit on this pathetic base?" he panted.

"Yes Megatron, but-!"

"Throw him down there," he ordered. He threw away the whip and began rubbing his aching shoulder. "Let his pain be his companion for the next few hours. I'm sure he'll be much more docile when we talk later. _Yes,_" with that, the huge Alpha limbed slowly back to his ship for repairs of his own. He didn't have to fight through a crowd because, by now, there hardly was one. When the lashings began, the recruits began to disperse on their own and quietly drifted away in disturbed clusters, not wanting any part of this particular brand of discipline. By the end of it, only the Betas remained to play witness, protecting of their own, and they immediately went to their fallen comrade's side when Megatron walked away.

"You heard him," Alpha1K0 said wearily. "Take him to the Pit."

Darkness again. Rattrap would have liked to believe that the playback of the datatrack was over and he was once more back in Dinobot's mainframe but he knew that just wasn't so. When he reached out, he could feel smooth, cold stone and he could hear the labored breathing of the holding cell's main occupant. The Pit was precisely just that: a holding cell scraped out of rock twenty feet beneath the ground and accessible only by a narrow shaft and a lift.

Every once in a while, red optics flashed on, evaluated the surroundings, and went dim again. Dinobot was badly injured from Megatron's assault. It wasn't severe enough to go into a stasis lock or permit him the luxury of being able to pass out from the pain, but it wasn't hard to tell that he was suffering. Rattrap knew that the laser whip had left cauterized lash marks across his rival's chest and back, impossible to see now in the dark. He had lost count how many lashings the soldier had endured.

Hunkering down beside him, Rattrap tried to touch him but his hand went through, just as he expected. Strange that he could interact with the environment but not the occupants; some side effect of the probe's interference, he figured. "Look, I didn't know," he said helplessly, knowing he couldn't be heard but the words spilled out anyway. "I always thought that you and Megs and the rest of the goon squad were all one big happy gang. I-I had no idea things were... y'know, like _this_. I mean, really, how could I? Why the slag didn't you-"

"Indigo," spoke a voice over his left shoulder.

"_Agh!"_ Rattrap recoiled in shock.

There was a scrape of metal and a light came on as Shade transformed one of her spikes into a torch. She slammed it into the ground and knelt down beside her mate, running her fingers gently along the lash marks. "Flak! Too many to count. Can you hear me?"

His optics slowly winked on, widening in recognition. "You should... not... be here-"

"Don't tell me what I can and can't do," she said crisply, helping him sit up. She unscrewed a bottle she had with her and held it up to his mouth. "Drink this. It should help restore some of your power loss."

He pulled his head back, actually trying to argue, "...Your energon ration-"

"Drink!" she shouted.

Meekly, he submitted and drank the contents. After a few minutes, he was able to sit up on his own and he briefly consulted his onboard computer for a diagnostic. "Half power now. At least when Megatron returns I'll be able to face him on my feet instead of my knees."

She was not amused at the poor attempt at levity. "Why? So you can start another fight?" she asked bitterly.

"I didn't start this conflict, Shade," he said and told her what had happened in the base commander's office.

She absorbed this and suddenly growled, "Alpha1K0 betrayed you. That coward! And to think he's-"

"I'll deal with him, eventually. Right now, Megatron is the greater threat."

The anger left her as quickly it had come. She touched his face with the tips of her fingers, the contact lingering. "It's only for four years... I can wait. That's not such a long time-"

Dinobot shook his head. "It was a clear lie. Once I step onboard that ship, I'll never be permitted to return. I'll be considered on active duty once more. You know what that means as well as I do."

"Back to the front line, back to territory expansion," she nodded slowly, regretfully. They fell into troubled silence for a long while. Observing the scene, Rattrap wished desperately that there was something he could do or say, anything to try and ease the pain that the pair were feeling, and not just from the physical injuries, either. But there was nothing he could do. In a way, he was just as helpless in this situation as they were. And almost as miserable.

Eventually, she said, "You are only a Beta. You have no choice but to obey the orders of an Alpha superior. We both knew that this day would come sooner or later."

He blinked in astonishment. "You would let me go?"

"Indigo, I have no choice-"

"We are free-thinking Predacons!" he suddenly yelled at her. "The days of being slaves ended with the Quintessons! Of course we have a choice!"

"We are also soldiers," she reminded him sorrowfully. "And we follow our orders."

"Not this one. Not this time," he snarled through clenched teeth. "The only way I'm leaving Charr is in a recycling bin!"

She suddenly punched him across the face, the sound of her knuckles hitting his helmet with a clear C_lang!_ in the small space. His head swung with the blow, and when he looked back, the expression in his face was frankly astonished, "What -?"

"How the flak is your termination supposed to help me? Or Raze?" she yelled at him. "How are we supposed to bear the burden of your disgrace? Better you go out and serve your duty with us at least knowing you're functioning to your true potential!"

He poked her deliberately in the chest. "Don't you _dare_ sermonize to me about serving my duty, female," he said in a low, dangerous tone. "You have absolutely no idea what it is like to be used as a weapon day after day with nothing to look forward to but more never-ending combat. I endured two full centuries of that miserable existence. I'm staying right here!"

She got to her feet with an exasperated exhale of breath and stood with her back to him, her arms crossed in anger and frustration. The spikes along her back were rustling in agitation, hitting against each other with small metallic clicks. "Megatron is an Alpha, but he is also a diplomat," she considered out loud. "Since violence clearly won't sway him, perhaps it's time to engage him in a straight-forward discussion."

"Never," Dinobot growled.

She passed him a glance over her shoulder. "I wasn't talking about you."

He opened his mouth in surprise and managed to get out, "...No. No! You stay away from him!" He got slowly to his feet with a pained groan and reached out for her arm, turning her around. "Megatron called you a diversion. He knows you're one of the reasons I won't leave here. He-"

"Perhaps I can convince him that it would be for the best if I came along with you," she said hopefully. "I'm not without skills. Raze can fend for himself now. We spoil him too much anyway, and-"

"Gamma6B3, I am _ordering_ you not to pursue this insanity."

She pulled her arm free with a hard yank. "Your rank was suspended the instant you struck Megatron. You have no authority over me now."

"Shade-!"

"_I have to try!"_ she cried miserably, her voice breaking with emotion. "Don't you understand that? I can't just stand on the sidelines watching you suffer like this and do nothing! I have to try _something _to help!_"_ She backed up against the wall and her form adopted the attributes of the stone until only her optics were visible. "I'll come back, I promise," she told him and closed her eyes, becoming virtually invisible as she engaged some sort of innate cloaking field. There was a clatter of claws raking against the stone tunnel that reached the surface, a brief spill of light as the trap door was slid aside, and then silence.

"SHADE!" he screamed after her. He became frantic and tried to follow her up the shaft, his claws and feet digging into the rock for purchase. He managed to make it halfway up when several of the whip burns along his back tore apart from the strain. Screaming in pain, he fell to the bottom with a crash, landing on his wounded side where Megatron had shattered the decorative 'ribs' of his armor. When he managed to get back on his feet again, he began to pace back and forth in the confined space like a rabid animal, his words lost to intelligible snarls and growls of inarticulate fury.

Trying to keep out of his way, Rattrap had no choice but to wait things out right along with him and he was scared to death. Had he really thought that he'd seen the Pred pissed off when they bickered? There was nothing to compare against what he was seeing right now. Dinobot was in pure battle mode, his optics blazing red fire and his teeth bared to expose a mouthful of tiny silver daggers. He slashed mindlessly at the walls, breaking off claws and not even noticing. He screamed up at the trap door until his voicebox overloaded.

An unknown time later, the trap door opened and the lift descended into the holding cell. Backing up until he was flush against the wall, Dinobot got down into a defensive crouch and his eyes went green as he powered up his lasers. His breath was whistling through his clenched teeth and his entire frame was shuddering with rage.

The lift reached the bottom and Fatality was standing there. The usual haughtiness was gone from her face and she could barely make eye contact with the soldier. "Indigo... I-I have bad news-"

His lasers winked off. "...no-"

Rattrap recoiled as the image suddenly shattered into a thousand fragments and he found himself back in Dinobot's mainframe surrounded by all of the orderly datatrack screens. The row in front of him had gone black again.

Dinobot's onboard computer insisted: _"//Datatracks F4L- 2 through to N9S-98 have been re-encrypted to prevent unauthorized retrieval."_

"OVERRIDE ENCRYPTION."

"//Neg-negat-tive. Access d-de-denied-" 

"Aw, c'mon! Leave him alone!" the Maximal shouted in dismay. "Ain't it clear to you that he doesn't want to go through this? Just leave him the slag alone awreddy!"

"YOU MUST KNOW."

Rattrap recoiled in shock. He craned his head up to look around. "I- _what?_"

"SO YOU WILL UNDERSTAND."

"_Me?_ Understand what? What th' slag are you talking about, you crazy son of a-"

"OVERRIDE. ACCESSING DATATRACK M1F-17," the probe announced. "COMMENCING PLAYBACK. NOW."

"Slag!" He experienced that sensation of being thrown again and protectively wrapped his arms around his head as he slammed into onto the unrelenting surface of a stone floor. When he dared to look around he saw that he was now in some sort of lab, probably the base infirmary judging by the CR chambers set along the far wall. The huge room was brightly lit and sterile, smelling of servo fluids and welded metal, and over to one side were a group of Predacons milling uncomfortably around. Fatality and Armorgator, and several of the Gamma-ranked soldiers were standing together in an anxious, distraught cluster talking in hushed tones. Rattrap wondered how he was seeing this memory if Dinobot was immersed in one of the repair tanks. He got to his feet and slowly approached the small group, his audios straining to hear what was going on;

"_-No, Delta9A1 found her near the loading bay-"_

"_- talked to the medic, he thinks the damage is irreparable-"_

"_Then he's not much of a medic! She's strong, she'll get-"_

"How is he?" Fatality said, looking anxiously over to the corner.

"Don't go near him," Armorgator cautioned. "I tried to pull him over to a tank and look-" He held up his arm and showed her the half moons of tiny punctures all along his wrist. "Those teeth aren't just for show. Just... leave him alone."

Looking over to where they were staring, Rattrap shouldn't have been surprised to see the soldier standing in the corner, but he was all the same.

Dinobot was a wreck. In this bright light, the full impact of his injuries from Megatron's lashings was horrific. Both sides of his armor were crisscrossed with dark black gashes from his knees all the way up to his neck. The whip had left a burn across his face and helmet right across the bridge of his nose, barely missing his optics. He was also bearing the dents from his earlier clash with Megatron, and had his right arm tightly pressed against his wounded side. When one of the technicians dared to approach him offering a patch, he rounded on the smaller Predacon with a livid snarl, driving him backwards.

"This isn't going to end well," Armorgator said sadly. "For either of them."

_I don't wanna be here,_ Rattrap thought forcefully at the probe, hoping it could hear him. He squeezed his eyes shut on the sight of his wounded, inconsolable rival and shouted with his mind: _I don't wanna see this! Make it stop!_

_Look, just make it stop...?_

But the datatrack played on.

An alarm sounded from the nearby CR chamber and the ramp began to rise. Three senior techs consulted the readout, conversed briefly and then dispersed. One went to the nearby console, entering commands, while another walked over to the group of assembled Predacon officers and began explaining the situation. The last one gathered his courage and cautiously approached Dinobot. "Beta4K2-?"

"Tell me," he rasped, his voice was painfully hoarse.

"As you know, Gamma6B3 was found in stasis lock with a projectile penetration that went completely through the shielding of her helmet. We discovered that the damage was centered in her intellect sub-routines, affecting all memory protocols. In attempting a reboot, we found her receptive. My associates and I were successful in repairing the damaged core, but-"

"Flak!" Shade said in exasperation once the lift ascended to the top of the tank and she had a chance to get her bearings. Her spikes radiated outwards and were shaking off the regen fluids in a fine spray of glowing blue droplets. "What the slag happened?!"

Dinobot roughly shoved the medic aside and approached her. "Rank, designation, and ident. Now!" he ordered.

"Gamma6B3, Infiltration, Shade," she responded automatically, and then cast the soldier a bewildered, frustrated look. "And you are-?" She reached out to touch his chest and he recoiled away before her fingers could feel the damage.

"Beta4K2, Infantry, Indigo," he said and waited for the reaction.

She automatically saluted and announced. "I'm ready for duty, sir!"

Fatality and Armorgator were back to talking again in their concerned, hushed voices. Trying desperately to keep his emotions under control, Dinobot asked her bluntly, "Are the rank and name familiar?"

"No sir." Her face grew puzzled. "Should they be?"

His face tightened up. He tried to answer her but couldn't form the words.

After a long bout of strained silence, Shade shouted to the room. "Well, could _someone_ tell me what's going on? Everything's a blank. The last thing I remember is taking a shuttle to Asteroid 24 and then- Zip!" She was quickly joined by the band of Gammas, her peers, who moved in to assure her that everything was all right.

It wasn't, though. Nothing was all right. Even Rattrap could tell that much.

Dinobot turned away from her and began heading quickly for the exit. The medic tried to keep up with his long strides, trying to tell him; "All of her memory banks of the last twenty stellar cycles were lost to the damage but her intelligence is intact. You don't have to worry about _that, _Beta4K2, if that's a concern. Her skills and her service to her duty are unimpaired. It's just a memory gap-"

Dinobot stopped short and grabbed the front of the shocked medic's armor and glared down at him. "Just a memory gap?" he snarled in disbelief. "She's my-!" He choked on the word and glanced urgently over at Shade again. The Gammas were all speaking at once in a disorganized jumble of conflicting information and she finally screamed out; "One at a time! I can't process what you're telling me!"

"You were attacked, Shade," commented a fellow officer.

The severity of the situation was beginning to finally dawn on her. "Attacked? By who?"

"Nobody knows-"

"The _flak_ nobody knows!" Boomslang hissed resentfully. "It could only be Megatron-"

One of the other Gamma's shouldered him roughly, hissing, and the pair cast a guilty, anxious glance over in Dinobot's direction.

The soldier's eyes had transformed to green slits when he heard the hateful name. He pulled his sword free with a strained snarl and suddenly turned and bolted for the door.

"Stop him!" Armorgator shouted. "He's going to try and attack Megatron again!"

Fatality watched the soldier run past her and did nothing. She turned to the other Beta and spat out, "Let him."

Armorgator was a huge behemoth of a soldier. In many ways, he reminded Rattrap of Rhinox, and not just in his build, but also his long-suffering patience. With a muttered curse, the dark brown Predacon pulled free an enormous MFG Assault gun from his subspace pocket and gamely tied to give chase. He knew that he would never catch the younger, faster Beta but he meant to at least try-!

Outside, right in front of the infirmary doors, Dinobot had come to a complete stop and the soldier almost plowed into him in his surprise. The twin cannons of a Cybertronian missile truck were pressed up against his whip-lashed chestplate and were fully armed and ready to fire.

"Armorgator," the vehicle commanded, "Go back inside."

The Beta hesitated, clearly torn between alliances. "Alpha1K0... Sir, I really don't think-"

"Now!"

The soldier relented, leaving the two to their peculiar standoff.

"I will have my vengeance," Dinobot stated, fearlessly looking down into the two armed barrels of the huge tank. "I will kill Megatron for what he has done and then-" he deliberately whacked one of the cannons with his sword, "I'll come back to exact my revenge for your earlier betrayal. Now move aside!"

There was the sound of the cannons powering up and then they reluctantly whined back down. The vehicle pulled back and, with a wretched squeal of ancient metal, transformed into the more recognizable form of the base commander. He had apparently come prepared for this encounter and now had his sonic stun gun deliberately aimed at the furious Beta.

Rattrap watched the confrontation with shocked wonder, momentarily forgetting about what had happened in the infirmary. The transformation of the old Decepticon had jarred a memory loose and the Maximal remembered something Dinobot had said earlier when Shade had teased him about his person ident. Something about a Combaticon...

"Oh, holy slag," he said in an amazed voice, staring at them both in disbelief. _The base commander, Alpha1K0... he was-was-!_

Onslaught said evenly, "Believe me when tell you that this gives me absolutely no pleasure."

"Old fool. Even with the shape I'm in, you're no match for me and we both know it-"

"You have no proof that Megatron scrapped Gamma6B3!"

"Your defense of him is all the proof I need!" Dinobot snarled spitefully

"I am not in league with that pontificating tyrant," the old commander sneered, slightly lowering his weapon. "But I do know that killing Megatron will only incur the wrath of the Tripredacus Council. They will send forces here and wipe this base off the map in retaliation; that includes Shade, your friends, your Company! Everyone you know! How can your honor allow that to happen?"

"How dare you appeal to my honor?" the soldier hissed, but he was slowly lowering his sword as the words penetrated his rage. His battered form was shaking with restrained violence. "How-how _dare_ you-!"

"Beta4K2, it is done," the senior officer told him roughly as he reintegrated the stun gun back into his forearm. "You have no choice but to comply. Megatron is waiting for you," he gestured over to the spaceport where the hulking form of the Darkside was readying for take-off. Ground forces were running back and forth beneath the immense craft, inspecting it one last time.

Dinobot remained right where he was. "No!" he said, shaking his head. "There's _nothing_ that can make me leave here!"

"Actually, there _is_ one thing," his superior said solemnly, his face rigid and lined with anger and despair. "And right now... Megatron has him."

Snapping his head up, the soldier stared at his commander with confusion. That emotion was quickly replaced with dawning realization and then became outright panic. Without another word, he sprinted across the tarmac towards the Military cruiser as fast as he could run. Watching him go, Onslaught; that battered veteran who had endured more than his own share battles against a superior officer named Megatron in a totally different time and age, could only hang his head in surrender knowing what the future held in store for his soldier.

"I'm truly sorry, Indigo," Rattrap heard him whisper.

The engines of the Darkside were starting to power up with a grinding roar that sounded like a snarling beast. Megatron was standing at the end of the ship's boarding ramp, casually chatting with one of the engineers of the base and he looked up expectantly when Dinobot came charging over to them. So did the smaller figure standing next to him.

"Ah, Indigo!" the purple Alpha greeted cordially, as if they were old friends who had known one another for years. "How wonderful for you to come and see us off!"

Dinobot flashed Megatron a glare that was full of livid hate before dropping his gaze to the young Predacon beside him. His optics softened. "It is past your curfew, Zeta7K3. Return to barracks."

Raze didn't appear to know what was going on. He craned his head to look up to the huge Alpha, "I don't understand, sir? I thought you said my transfer to your crew was all in order."

"A slight oversight, yes," Megatron lied smoothly. He flashed a grin at Dinobot as he placed a possessive hand on the young recruit's shoulder. "As you can see, I have just what I came for-"

"No, you don't," Dinobot interrupted and suddenly readied his lasers.

"_Whoa-!_ Here we go again!" Rattrap cried and threw himself away from Megatron.

To his shock, the twin green blasts smashed into Raze instead and knocked the youth the length of the landing bay until he smashed against the far wall, hitting it so hard that he left a dent in the metal resembling his shape. He slumped to the floor unconscious, but not before flashing his Beta a miserable look of confused betrayal before succumbing to his injuries.

Appearing not to have noticed that condemning glare, Dinobot turned to Megatron and said evenly, "You can wait half a day for his repair cycle to be completed or you can take me in his stead. What do you want to do-" he almost choked on the next word and finally managed to get it out between clenched teeth, "-sir?"

Initially trying to look irritated, a gloating smile of triumph slowly spread across Megatron's dark features. On the sidelines, Rattrap found himself reaching for his pistol again. He wanted nothing more than to blow that slagging smirk off of the Predacon's face at point blank range but, as before, his weapon was gone.

"I've wasted enough time on this miserable base. Let's go," the Alpha said shortly and stomped up into the ship. Reluctantly, Dinobot followed after him. When he turned one last time to spare a glance to Raze, Megatron deliberately slammed his fist on the nearby console and the ramp retracted to let the bay doors close, hiding the soldier from his view. Dinobot continued to stare at the dark metal without expression.

The huge Alpha stared down at him, apparently savoring in the victory. At last, he remarked, "Your appearance is disgusting. Report for duty after you have competed a repair cycle."

The response was little more than a weary sigh, "Yes, sir."

"Have you already forgotten what I told you earlier about my disdain with formalities?"

There was another strained pause, then: "No, Megatron. I... apologize for the lapse."

"Very good, _yess_," Megatron's cocky smile broadened. With a curt nod, he turned on his heel and walked briskly down the corridor towards the command center. Rattrap could actually hear the son of a bot humming to himself.

Dinobot watched him go until he was out of sight and then turned to look at the closed bay doors again. Dropping his head, he rubbed his eyes with a weary hand and his chest gave one compulsive hitch before he managed to rein the emotion in under tight control. It was a long time before he straightened with difficulty, visibly gathering his composure, and finally turned and headed in the opposite direction from where his new commander had gone, intent on a repair cycle before officially reporting to duty. The look on his face was of someone who had given up living and was now just going through the motions.

By the time he reached the repair room and entered the settings for the regeneration cycle, he was becoming agitated again and pressed a shaking hand to his forehead. "Computer..."

"_//Online,"_ came the immediate response of his onboard system.

"Encrypt datatracks F4L- 2 through to N9S-98," he said harshly.

"_//Reason for encryption?"_

"I won't be able to function to my fullest capacity as long as they're accessible. Encrypt the datatracks now to prevent any possible retrieval."

There was a short pause before the computer offered the prompt: _"//A text description is required to effectively label this omission in place of playback."_

Dinobot considered his response very seriously. Finally, he closed his eyes and ordered the computer to enter: "//Voluntarily returned to active duty under the command of Alpha9H4 / Ident: Megatron. Posting: Darkside. Duration of mission: Four years. Mission specifics: Classified. Conjugal ally conceded to action-" his voice suddenly hoarsened and he lapsed back into pained silence, waiting for the computer to initiate the action.

"_//Text entered for record,"_ his system assured him. _"//Action completed. Encryption enabled-"_

The image went dark and Rattrap found himself back in Dinobot's mainframe again, surrounded by the glowing screens of the hacked datatracks. It had only taken eight megacycles for this selected passage of encrypted memory files to play out from start to finish. Eight hours for Dinobot's life to go from total contentment among family and friends, to be reduced to little more than a dishonored slave. If Rattrap hadn't seen it all with his own optics, he would never have believed it.

"NOW YOU KNOW," the probe told him.

_Yeah,_ Rattrap nodded to himself sadly.

_Yeah, I sure do._

* * *

Part Four: Megatron launches his assault on the Axalon. 


	4. Chapter 4

KNOW YOUR ENEMY – Part Four of Four

Written and posted in 2007 © by SolitaryHawk

* * *

The brief storm squall passed through the devastated clearing almost as soon as it had arrived, leaving behind a surreal, ghostlike quality to the sparse surroundings that were now covered in a fine layer of undisturbed snow. The wind had finally dropped and dark clouds were moving away with a hint of sun trying to penetrate the overcast sky. In the center, untouched by any moisture, the probe hovered in his charred crater and suddenly released a low hum.

"SCAN COMPLETE. ANALYSIS COMPLETE. MISSION COMPLETE."

In a flash of light, Rattrap and Dinobot rematerialized in the clearing beside the probe's crater. At first they stared down at themselves in shock, as if thinking this was just another trick. Then they glanced over at one another and visibly flinched in reaction.

The strained silence between them continued until the probe's hum intensified and they bolted without even giving the pretense of heroics. The hum changed to a high buzz and then the yellowish orb disappeared in a blaze of light that stretched upward towards the sky and parted the clouds like a laser. The two Maximals watched the show from a safe distance and then went back to staring uncomfortably at one another.

"I..." Dinobot started and then fell back into troubled silence.

"uhm..." Rattrap cleared his throat. He began tracing errant designs in the snow with his toes.

"Look-" They said in unison and blinked at one another.

Rattrap tried again; "As far as I'm concerned what happened in the probe, stays with the probe, awright?" He tried to sound indifferent but it was difficult staring at his old nemesis and pretending that everything between them was the same. It wasn't. _No way in Prime it was ever gonna be._ He was having a hard time just meeting the huge soldier's gaze and that wasn't like him at all.

Dinobot noted his ally's uneasiness but conceded with what he had to say, "All right." His experience hadn't dulled his opinion of the distasteful rodent by much but at least he now had some respect for him, which was actually saying something. "But I don't-"

_//Error!_ He flinched when his on board computer suddenly projected an alert message across his mainframe. _//Internal security comprised!_

_//Origin of fault?_ he asked the computer.

His smaller companion stared at him with concern. "You okay?"

Dinobot flashed him a look: _Since when have you ever cared?_ and finally said aloud, "There's a problem with my security protocols." He went back to trying to resolve the issue, deliberately ignoring the Maximal.

Having a pretty good idea what the problem was, his small companion wandered a short distance away looking around. He briefly consulted his own onboard system but saw no reported conflicts. No surprise there. He didn't exactly keep a tidy house. What did surprise him was that his chronometer revealed that only fifteen minutes had passed since the moment they'd been abducted. He couldn't understand how that was possible; it had been the better part of a day inside of Dinobot's datatracks. If that wasn't an indication of the aliens' mastery of time and space, he didn't know what was. He was still puzzling over the experience when he heard the muffled sound of Megatron's voice directly behind him.

_"-prepare to attack-"_

_"Agh!"_ Rattrap whirled around, pulling out his pistol with a blur and had it pointed to the direction of the sound. He was immeasurably relieved to see that his weapon was back and gave his surroundings a thorough scan. The only thing around him was snow-covered rocks.

One rock was shivering.

There was a blaze of static and then _"-zpinator ready to slag Maximal-"_

"What the-?" the Maximal puzzled as he walked over to the quaking pile of snow.

_"-orpinok terrorize-"_

Kneeling down, Rattrap brushed away a patch of snow and exposed red chrome. Recognizing the color scheme immediately, he grabbed hold of a seam and wrenched the prone body of Terrorsaur out of the snow. "Hey chopperface, lookit this!"

Dinobot had problems of his own. The computer was telling him that certain encrypted files had been accessed and he didn't know what the damned thing was talking about. Voluntarily encrypting files was like trying to permanently banish a memory and he couldn't recall what would motivate him to initiate that action. It was like attempting self-imposed amnesia. He read the text file that accompanied the selection and found that description to be unusually vague. That wasn't like him at all. _//Commence rapid playback of F4L-2 to N9S-98_, he told the computer, frowning.

_//Acknowledged._

And the banished memories flashed through his mainframe with the speed of a shutter click...

Rattrap stared down at the prostrate form of Terrorsaur with disbelief. The Flyer was definitely offline, but he must have tried to access his communication system just as the probe attacked. By some miracle, the channel was still open and he was patched into the Darkside's transmissions.

_"No advance Flyers-!"_ Megatron's voice thundered amid the crackle of interference caused by the probe's unique energy release, _"We are attacking-"_ -Crackle! _"-only way to catch the Maximals -"_ the rest was lost to a savage blaze of static before the signal terminated.

"Aw no," Rattrap moaned and slapped his chestplate, "Optimus come in! You hear me, Boss Monkey?"

The feedback almost deafened him. He could hear a voice in the background that sounded vaguely like his commander but he couldn't be sure. He turned over to Dinobot. "Yo! Can you get anything on your comlink?"

The soldier was standing in place, looking down at the ground with a peculiar expression on his blue face. He turned his head marginally towards the Maximal. "...what?"

"Your comlink-!" the Maximal frantically pantomimed slapping his chestplate. "Can you get a signal from the Axalon?"

Dinobot only continued to stare at him blankly.

"Slag it! I ain't got time to play twenty questions with you, Dinoboob! Megatron's gonna attack the base-"

The soldier's face slowly became animated. "Megatron," he growled the name out slowly, as if sampling each syllable. His eyes transformed into twin green slits as he clenched both massive hands into fists. "I... remember..."

Rattrap watched him warily. "Easy there, big fella. Don't-"

Releasing one of his piercing screams, Dinobot abruptly transformed into his raptor form and took off in a blur, leaving the astonished Maximal all alone in the deserted clearing. "HEY!" he bawled in anger. "Don't forget about me!"

"Need a lift?" asked a voice from above.

Rattrap had never been so happy to see Airazor in his entire life. "The Flyin Featherduster! Thank Prime!"

The female falcon delicately tucked in her wings and transformed as she landed. "An earlier transmission I received from Optimus said that you and Dinobot were attacked by a probe," she craned her head around the barren surroundings. "I was ordered to return to base but I thought I should do a flyby just in case I could help. What's going on?"

"No time for that! Megatron's attacking the base! We gotta get back!"

At the mere mention of Megatron's name, the female's green optics widened dramatically. She had not been part of the original crew to crash land on this alien planet, she had been created later; made serviceable thanks to Rhinox's quick thinking. Because of this, her loyalty to the large engineer's crew was overwhelming.

Without a second's hesitation, she transformed again and Rattrap followed suit. She picked up his beast form with her talons and beat her wings furiously to gain altitude. The pair were about the same size, and unfortunately the same weight, and Rattrap knew from experience that this severely taxed the Flyer's strength just to get them both airborne, let alone make a swift course back to the Axalon. For a change, he was unusually mute about the whole ordeal even though her claws were digging into his armpits with almost painful force. He just kept his eyes trained on the ground, searching for clues where his other companion had gone.

As expected, it wasn't that hard to figure out.

"What's that?" Airazor squawked, resorting to her zoom lens. There was an explosion far ahead of them and a pile of debris hurled into the air. Further on there were several more.

"_That_ would be Dinobot," the little spy muttered.

"I didn't know he could move that fast!"

"When he gets it into his thick head, he can haul tail almost as fast as Cheetor." He didn't bother to add that the soldier was probably at that speed right now. There was no way in the Inferno that they were going to make it back to the Axalon before he did and Prime help any bot that was in his way when he showed up. Rattrap didn't care a lick about the Preds but he was worried for his friends. If they got in Dinobot's way, the end could be disastrous.

He urgently slapped his chestplate and tried to get out a warning. "Rattrap to Optimus- to anybody! Come in!"

* * *

Equally motivated, Megatron lead the way to the Maximal base, running at a sustained pace in his Tyrannosaurus beast form and his heavy footfalls sounding like concussive blasts with each determined tread. Any creature hearing that passage immediately ran for cover, and for good reason. Flanking him on either side were Inferno, who was carrying Blackarachnia; and Waspinator, who was struggling with Tarantulas. Bringing up the rear, and panting with the effort to keep up with them, was Scorponok. All six Predacons knew the stakes involved with this particular attack. There would be no retreat, no compromise, and certainly no failure. They were a unified assault force that had only one objective:

Conquest.

When the Axalon came into view, they found the Maximals ready and waiting. All three of them; Rhinox, Cheetor, and Optimus Primal. At the sight of the six approaching Predacons they transformed and armed, the protective shields of the Axalon enfolding the craft in a luminescent aura.

"Steady everyone," Optimus told them, arming his shoulder missiles.

Nervously checking and rechecking the loads in his gutgun, Cheetor calculated the odds of survival in his mainframe and came out with a result that would have made Rattrap blink in surprise.

_We're all gonna die_, the youth thought bleakly.

Rhinox hefted his massive chainguns and aimed them at the enemy, waiting for the cue that would bring both parties into a fateful exchange where there could only be one victor.

Megatron intended to be that victor. With a thunderous bellow, he transformed and the others followed suit. Weapons came out of subspace, armed and locked on their targets.

"Predacons!" he shouted. _"Attack!"_

* * *

During their patrol, Rattrap and Dinobot had taken over six hours to travel only twenty kilometers over harsh terrain and miserable conditions. They had kept the pace slow in difference to the smaller Transformer's steps, and the fact that more than once they'd had to deviate from a straight path to go around obstacles.

Dinobot made it back to base in less than fifteen minutes.

He didn't concern himself with obstructions; he simply plowed through deadfalls and fallen trees with the force of a brown-striped cruise missile intent on its target. It didn't matter that splinters and shards of wood now penetrated his beast form in dozens of places like shrapnel. The only thing he was intent on was his target: Megatron, and he was working out the various strategies he would need to take the tyrant down once and for all. The rest him from the eyes-down was on autopilot.

When he heard the telltale sounds of combat, he immediately deviated in his course, opting for a path that would take him up into the cliffs that surrounded the Axalon rather than straight through the narrow pass they all regularly used. From up here, he had a broader vantage point of the battle zone and easily picked out Inferno who was firing at a Maximal pinned down behind some rocks far below. It looked like Cheetor and that only fueled the soldier's rage further. Still running at maximum speed, he launched himself from the rock face without a second's hesitation and transformed in the few seconds it took to reach his target. Inferno never even knew what happened when over 245 kilos of armored fury slammed into him broadside.

The two wrestled desperately as they pin-wheeled to the ground, all slashing claws and biting fangs as they engaged in a savage close quarter battle where weapons were impossible to use. When they smashed into the ground, Inferno acted as the buffer for the landing but that wasn't a good thing. His heavy armor perforated Dinobot's techno-organic hide and slashed his stomach, scoring the flex metal of his chassis and ripping away protective plating.

Gripping his wound, Dinobot pulled into a contorted ball and Inferno managed to drag himself over to where his flame-gun had landed and brought it around in a deadly arc, grinning despite his own damage. Just before depressing the trigger, it flew out of his hands. Two more shots right between the eyes and the Predacon was face down in the dirt.

"Holy slag, are you all right?" Cheetor fretted, kneeling down beside his stricken comrade. "You just came right out of nowhere!"

Dinobot was struggling to get his breath back from his extended sprint. "...get back under cover, Raze. It's not safe here..." he muttered absently, shaking his head to clear it. He was still dazed from the landing and it took some effort to get successfully to his feet.

Cheetor helped to steady him. "Wha-? Dinobot, did that fall scramble your circuits or something?" the youngster asked uneasily.

The soldier blinked in confusion as if it were the first time he had seen him and then fixated on an object over the youth's left shoulder. His optic lasers came online and he fired a salvo at Waspinator, who was closing in quickly. He gave a push to the younger Maximal to send him towards cover and ran in the opposite direction, firing at the insect Flyer over his shoulder as he ran.

Off to the side and exchanging fire with Tarantulas, Rhinox's optics widened in recognition. And clear relief. He turned his head over to the left and called out; "Optimus! Dinobot's back!"

The Maximal commander clubbed Megatron across the face, driving him back a few feet, and spared a desperate glance over to where Rhinox had indicated. _Yes, thank Prime,_ their Predacon ally had arrived just in the proverbial nick of time. From the looks of things he had already taken out Inferno, who was always a deadly threat, and now he and Cheetor were coordinating their fire against Waspinator. He received an additional treat when over his comlink came the frantic words of Rattrap; _"-hold on there, guys! Me'n Airazor are on our way! Just watch out for-"_ the rest was lost to static but the message had been loud and clear.

Optimus spared the Predacon commander a grin of triumph. "You lose again, Megatron. You certainly get an 'A' for effort!"

His face pulled into a grimace of defiance, the huge leader saw movement behind Optimus and suddenly broke out into a broad grin. "The battle isn't over yet, Primal," he said just as Blackarachnia opened fire.

The rapid blasts slammed into the younger leader's back and Megatron raised his weapon with the intention of firing at him at point-blank range. Several of the female arachnid's shots went wild and nailed the towering Predacon, throwing him off balance. Blackarachnia ceased firing in her horror. It was all the diversion that Optimus needed. He whirled and caught the female with a missile that hit her in the stomach and sent her sailing out of the battlefield. _Another one down... Now they were evenly numbered!_

Rhinox was keeping Tarantulas pinned down and spent shells covered his feet as he fought to keep the male arachnid in place and out of the fight. He spared a glance to his left and saw that Cheetor and Dinobot had managed to get Waspinator between them and their coordinated blasts were making the insect Flyer dance in the air, trying to avoid getting hit. Buzzing furiously, he headed straight up until he became lost in the clouds. The engineer spared himself a gratified grin and suddenly charged Tarantulas' hiding spot, bellowing at the top of his lungs. At the mere sight of that hulking green Maximal with his huge rotating chainguns coming at him, the spider transformed and quickly scaled the nearest rock face to get out of the line of fire.

Sensing the change in the tide of battle as if it were a detectable scent, Megatron still remained fixated on Optimus, determined to bring down the Maximal commander once and for all. He began closing in again when twin green lasers slammed into his side and caught his attention. Dinobot was approaching, his eyes twin emerald slits, and were fixated solely on his former leader.

"Stand down, Dinobot. He's mine," Optimus said, almost smiling. He was a pacifist in nature but when the prospect of battle activated his combat protocols, he enjoyed a good fight as much as any of them.

Dinobot ignored him, continuing to rapid-fire his lasers. He wasn't going to give Megatron the chance to power up and return fire. Each blast was pushing the larger bot steadily backwards towards the waterfall even though the talons of his feet were gripping the earth for dear life. The chestplate of the Predacon commander became pitted and seared and Dinobot steadily closed the distance, close to reaching overload on his lasers. Smoke was starting to trail out of the vents on either side of his helmet; first as delicate wisps that become blacker as the heat inside of his helmet became extreme. Warnings began to flash across his onboard computer.

There was a hand on his shoulder, big and black. He whipped his head around and sank his needle sharp teeth into the fingers with a livid snarl and Optimus recoiled with a shout of pain. Dinobot would tolerate no more of this Maximal sentiment of playing fair and by the rules; of letting the enemy go free so they could regroup and strike another day. Not this time. He was sick and tired of having to obey orders that were in direct conflict with his core programming: Attack and Destroy. This time, he was going to see things through to the end.

When he unsheathed his sword, the expression on his Maximal commander's face was one of complete disbelief and he actually backed up one step. Dinobot passed him a look that contained absolutely no recognition before turning back towards his old nemesis. Megatron had shaken off assault and was whipping around the Tyrannosaurus head to start firing. Dinobot managed three more strikes with his lasers before they went offline. It didn't matter. He cleared the distance between them with great ground-eating strides and tackled the larger Predacon squarely in the mid-section, throwing them both over the waterfall.

"Dinobot!" Optimus rushed to the edge just in time to see the pair disappear in the low hanging mist more than two hundred feet below where the waterfall emptied into the rapids. Before he could fly down to search for any trace of his damaged ally, he was brutally reminded that there was still a battle going on as two concussive shells exploded on either side of him. Scorponok was reloading as he sighted up and the Maximal commander had no choice but to go find cover.

Diving behind some boulders, he winced and shook his aching hand, seeing the marks that Dinobot's teeth had left. Deep down, he knew that it was more than mere coincidence that the soldier's unpredictable behavior seemed to come after his association with the probe. For an instant there, it had looked like he was going to be attacked and he didn't want to be on the receiving end of that hateful, calculating glare ever again. Not from a member of his crew he regarded as his friend.

Scorponok was prepping one massive claw to fire another missile when a small projectile slammed into the cliff above him, showering him with debris. He cast an outraged, accusatory glance skywards and saw Airazor coming in fast. "Oh slag," he murmured, bringing his arm around. His speed was no match for the swift female Flyer and she did a strafing run above his head that created an avalanche of rocks to rain down upon his armored form. When he tried to run for cover, Optimus nailed him with both wrist cannons.

Airazor hovered overhead, staring at him with concern. The Maximal commander looked a little singed around the edges but otherwise appeared intact. "Is everyone alright?"

Rattrap was sliding down the hill from where she had dropped him. He took up fire with Cheetor and began helping him put the run to Scorponok. Rhinox was still firing at the mountain and trying to get at Tarantulas who was pinned beneath an outcrop. The situation appeared to be under control although there was no sign of Waspinator.

"Dinobot and Megatron went over the cliff. Help me find them," he told Airazor and ran for the edge of the drop-off, firing his retro jets. Together the pair disappeared into the heavy mist.

* * *

Floundering under the water and swept up in the rapids, Megatron transformed swiftly just before his T-Rex form slammed up against some underwater boulders, almost stunning him. Despite the near-perfect appearance of the beast form, it was still based on a technological superstructure of metal and circuits and he sank like a rock. As clumsy hind claws raked the sandy bottom for desperate purchase, he had no choice but to transform again and swim towards the nearby bank. When his feet finally felt substance, he staggered towards the rocky shoreline and collapsed upon it, trying to process the injury reports that were coming in; he had received structural damage from the fall, water had penetrated his internals and needed to be purged, there was also laser damage near the processing core in his chest.

He choked up great gouts of water and broke off coughing. Everything was a blur; one second it had looked like he'd finally gained the upper hand in destroying the Maximals once and for all and in the next, half of his forces were down and he was left facing his crazed former second-in-command. _It was always the same cursed scenario!_ He would have thought that Optimus Primal would have been his personal rival on this accursed planet and time and again the one person to thwart his plans always turned out to be none other than-

A shadow loomed over him and when he turned his head to the left he saw the outline of a large bot standing there. "Dino-"

Dinobot kicked him across the face so hard the huge Predacon was flipped over onto his back. Megatron barely had time to react to the punishment before the soldier unsheathed his sword and held the point of the rotating blades to his throat. Dinobot had not escaped unscathed from their fall off of the cliff either. The right side of his body was bashed, dented or scraped from his helmet right down to his hip and it looked like the use of his left arm was limited. None of that mattered to Megatron, who knew full well of his rival's abilities and he stayed right where he was, trying not to betray any sign of weakness that might incite the soldier to further action. "So... you have me at your mercy," he blustered. "What happens now?"

"Who shot her?" Dinobot demanded. The right side of his helmet was smashed and the mouth guard was torn away exposing a long line of teeth clenched in a grimace that could either be in pain or rage. Probably a combination of both.

Megatron had been expecting anything but that and his face betrayed his confusion. "Who?"

"Shade, Gamma6B3."

_"WHO?"_

"My second officer on Charr, idiot!" the soldier shouted down at him.

His face screwing into a desultory frown, Megatron regarded the former Predacon in brooding silence, absolutely abhorring any insult directed his way. He was becoming convinced that the soldier had obtained more serious damage than what appeared evident and decided to try some stalling techniques in the hopes that some reinforcements might arrive in time. "That name simply does not ring a bell, old friend. Perhaps if you-"

"I don't have time for your slag," Dinobot snarled and suddenly drove the sword blade down through the tyrant's shoulder.

Megatron's reaction was spectacular as he released an agonized roar and his back actually lifted off the ground in a pained bow. Dinobot's face was devoid of any emotion as he deliberately leaned down on the sword hilt, ensuring that the weapon remained embedded in the larger Predacon's body. "I'm waiting for your answer," he said in a level growl.

"Yes- Yes! I remember her. Shade. Your conjugal ally," Megatron gasped in pain, glaring up at the other bot in fury. "Your _leash-"_

Dinobot deliberately moved the sword back and forth, expanding the hole and the tyrant writhed in agony. "Be very careful of your responses, Megatron. I will ask you One. Last. Time. Who shot her? The damage was specific in its location, premeditated. Only you could think of such an action."

Despite his injuries, Megatron's gloating smirk was back. "Not just me."

"Tarantulas, then. That would be right up his-"

"Not him, either. You know Gamma6B3's attacker far better than I do," his former commander added with a sneer, _"Indigo."_

Dinobot frowned at him, not understanding, and then his optics flashed in clear surprise. He almost lost his grip in his sword handle. "You mean-" He shook his head with one brisk shake, "...No. Not possible. Not-"

"Onslaught was a fair Alpha to run Battalion I, but he was also heavily involved in the Interstellar black market. He could not risk a visit by any member of the Military Council. You were starting to attract too much attention. He knew that the only way to get you off his base would be to sever your ties." Megatron paused for a few seconds before he delivered the bombshell:

"Attacking Gamma6B3 in that manner was _his_ idea. And it worked."

Optics widening in horror, Dinobot was starting to utter a denial when he was seized by a blaze of static and he recoiled in pain from the energon overload. It was the opportunity that Megatron had been waiting for. He grabbed the soldier's sword and ripped it out of his shoulder and pierced Dinobot's damaged stomach in one smooth move, driving him backwards until he was flush against the cliff wall.

"How does it feel?" Megatron growled into his face, grinding the weapon back and forth. It punched out of the soldier's back and began gouging into the stone behind him. "What does it feel like being impaled on your own cursed sword?"

"Eat... slag," Dinobot cursed at him, defiant to the end.

"Eat _this,"_ Megatron snarled, raising his T-Rex head and leveling it at his former second's head. He was through with speeches and bluster where this particular Predacon was concerned. It was time to end things once and for all. He powered up the weapon and fired.

Or tried to.

The Tyrannosaurus head had sustained serious damage in the fall, bending the internal cannon barrel and knocking the charges offline. The toothed weapon exploded, bathing them both in purple shrapnel. Screaming, Megatron staggered backwards as he gripped his stump of a right arm. Dinobot managed to pull his sword free and transformed, collapsing as he sought support on his injured left leg. It didn't stop him. He stretched out and grabbed his former leader by the ankle with his teeth, biting down on the bearing as hard as he could, snapping it. The huge Predacon fell sprawling with a shocked bellow.

Dinobot climbed onto his chest and began tearing wildly at the purple armor, caught in a paroxysm of fury that not even Megatron had ever seen before. He tried desperately to beat the raptor away. "Get OFF me!" he shouted.

Ripping away a piece of shoulder plating with his teeth, Dinobot spit it out and began raving madly, "I was content on Charr! I was happy! And then you came along and ruined _EVERYTHING!_ You and Onslaught _both!"_ He bared his teeth in a fearsome snarl and hissed, "I will kill you for what you've done, Megatron. And somehow, in some way, I will get off this miserable planet and exact my revenge on my sire. But _you_ will be FIRST-"

He darted his head down and began burrowing into the Predacon's damaged chest, attacking the spark case and Megatron threw his head back and screamed in agony. The raptor was just about to get through the dense metal when a concussive shell exploded against his side and knocked him off. He rolled several meters down the beach and when he came to a rest he was finally offline, his entire right side smoldering.

"Wazpinator saves the day!" the Flyer announced happily, hovering over the water and gesturing with his stinger gun.

"Kill him, you fool!" Megatron ordered, cradling his mangled chestplate. He couldn't transform, not without a beastmode head, and an energon overload was imminent. He couldn't remember the last time he had ever been this badly injured in combat. "Kill him right now!"

Without hesitation, the Flyer began lining up for a shot when his wings were clipped by several blasts and he fell into the water like a rock. "Help! Wazpinator can't- _glup!"_ his head immediately disappeared beneath the swift current. The only indication of his voyage downstream was the passage of bubbles.

Megatron took one look at Optimus Primal's approach and dove for the water without hesitation. He would sooner take his chances with the rapids than the Maximal's temper. He knew he would never survive a second assault, not with the shape he was in. Casting Dinobot's unconscious form a hateful glare, he propelled himself after the drowning Flyer and disappeared from sight.

"Dinobot?" Optimus landed beside the raptor and investigated his injuries. Most of the raptor's pseudo skin was torn off by shrapnel, and his body was dented and badly damaged. Without hesitation, the commander picked him up and carried him quickly back to the Axalon for repairs.

* * *

Rattrap was trying desperately to defend himself against the accusing stares of four other members of his crew. He had to admit that it looked pretty darned incriminating that he was standing here all safe and sound without a mark on him while his patrol partner was currently offline and enduring a prolonged repair cycle. "Look, I toldja all I know! He went nuts after the probe let us go. I never got no time to talk to him before he left me in the dust. I swear!"

"I'm not detecting any trace of a virus," came Rhinox's bass rumble, calling up Dinobot's schematics on the holo-screen above the oval control table. "And his programming and activation codes are still encoded as Maximal. He hasn't reverted."

"Thank Prime for that," Optimus murmured, staring down at his bandaged hand.

"But there is something..."

When the silence stretched on, the Maximal commander prompted impatiently, "Yes? What is it?"

"There's a hot spot in his mainframe that I can't pin down," the large engineer said. He zoomed in on the soldier's datatracks and pointed to a conflict icon that was present over the storage banks. "It might just be some embedded code from the probe's scan but since Rattrap seems to be functioning fine, I doubt it. It could be lingering damage from overloading his optic cannons. If you want to know whole the truth of it, I've never been able to quite figure out how Predacons can even use those weapons without frying their mainframes from the inside-out. Whatever caused the problem, the repair cycle isn't able to fix it."

"What does that mean?" Airazor asked curiously.

"I honestly don't know for sure unless I interface with his core. And I'm pretty darned sure he won't let me do that." He spared a glance at Optimus as if asking for permission and, deep in thought himself, the gorilla bot passed him a tacit shake of the head. In the background, Rattrap passed the holo image a fretful stare and started to open his mouth. He closed it again before anyone could notice.

"He was out of it after he took down Inferno," Cheetor piped up. "He called me by some other bot's name. One I never heard before."

"Do you remember what it was?" Optimus asked.

"Erase? Wraith? Something like that," the youngest Maximal pondered. "I don't remember-"

"He's coming back online," Rhinox interrupted.

_Maximal torture chamber..._ It had been Dinobot's instant impression the first time he had woken up inside one of these Maximal regeneration chambers. It didn't have anything to do with pain or noise; it was the sensory deprivation of the confined space that bothered him the most. It reminded him of another similar black, cold place that - before- he hadn't been able to precisely put his finger on. Right now, however, the memory came back with brutal recollection: It reminded of his stay in the Pit back on Charr.

_"Flak! Too many to count. Can you hear me?"_ whispered a voice behind him.

Dinobot recoiled violently and tried to turn around. His size wouldn't permit the action and he knew, deep down, that it was only a memory remnant from the probe's interference. The alien device had dredged up datatracks that he had intended to keep buried until he finally went offline for good. He proceeded to rectify that meddling immediately. _//Computer._

_//Online,_ came the swift response.

_//Encrypt datatracks F4L- 2 through to N9S-98._

There was a pause of a few seconds and then; _//Unable to comply._

The look on Dinobot's face was one of complete shock, and dawning horror. _//Explain!_

_//Encryption protocols have received irreparable damage. Unable to comply with request._

_//It isn't a request! It's an ORDER!_ he raved.

_//Unable to comply._

_//Encrypt datatracks F4L- 2 through to N9S-98 NOW!_

_//Unable to comply._

Heads turned towards the regen chamber at the sound of Dinobot's frustrated scream and the door slammed upwards with a loud crash, making all of them jump. Everyone stood on their guard as he staggered out of the regeneration chamber, gripping his helmet in one huge hand and still arguing with his onboard computer. When it registered that the rest of the Maximals were all gathered in the control room and staring at him, he pointed a rigid finger at Rhinox and shouted: "You! The repair sequence did not take! Run it again!"

The large engineer spread his hands in a gesture of futility. "It won't do any good. The CR chamber can't repair the damage. I'm sorry-"

"...You're sorry?" Dinobot couldn't believe his audio receptors. "You're SORRY! I don't want to hear your pathetic excuses! I want you to fix the flakking problem!"

Several of the Maximals exchanged uneasy glances. Of all of them, it was Optimus who braved himself to step forward and try to calm him down. "Rhinox did everything he could. It seems to be isolated to something that the probe did. There's no way to correct what's wrong so you're just going to have to live with it. We'll help you-"

"I don't want your help!" Dinobot raged backing away from him. "I don't want-" _to remember,_ he almost said out loud and clenched his teeth instead. The damned datatracks were stuck in a loop in the back of his mainframe, replaying his disgrace at the hands of Megatron over and over and over-

_Megatron..._

"He's gonna bolt-" Cheetor cautioned a split second before the former Predacon made a lunge for the lift. Optimus had actually been ready for it but at moments like these he was always caught off guard by the speed the older soldier could move to action. He managed to grab onto his legs and haul him to the floor and the soldier turned on him savagely, ramming his forehead into his face and managing to stun him. The others shook off their paralysis and moved in to intervene just as he was scrambling to his feet again.

Rhinox jumped on his back and slammed him back down to the floor. The engineer kept his hands on the soldier's helmet, not permitting him the chance to arm his lasers and fire at any targets. Optimus was now holding onto one powerful arm and Airazor was struggling with the other. Cheetor tried to secure his flailing legs. One foot connected with the youngster's lower stomach, connecting with vital systems, and he rolled over into a contorted ball, groaning.

Standing off to the side, Rattrap eyed the scene with dismay, not moving in to help. Right now, he wasn't sure which side that would be...

Despite the great weight on his back, Dinobot was actually managing to haul himself back up. "For slagging sake! Help me keep him down!" the engineer shouted in fear as he started slipping.

Optimus made the only decision possible under the circumstances. "I'm sorry, my friend," he said gravely and punched the soldier across the face as hard as he could. Dinobot went face down into the floor with a crash and went still.

"Great," Rhinox panted, still resting a restraining hand on the soldier's back, as if his being offline might be some sort of ruse. _"Now_ what?"

Optimus spared him a bewildered glance. "I honestly don't know."

* * *

Their first decision had been to place him down in the hold in one of the security cages that were meant to be used for studying hostile creatures. Optimus had spent a time in one of them himself, back when Scorpinox had infected him with a virus and it had transformed him into a raving war machine. He didn't relish placing the former Predacon in a cage; it just might make the situation worse. In the end, they opted for putting Dinobot in his quarters and locking the door, effectively placing him under house arrest. To say that he was upset about his imprisonment when he woke up is an understatement. Rhinox had to quickly weld armor plating to the door when the soldier began perforating it with his lasers.

Later in the evening, when Optimus went to check up on the situation, he found Cheetor pressed up against the opposite side of the corridor with an expression of terror on his young face. Right now there were four shield layers reinforcing the damaged door but Dinobot had still managed to thrust his sword through all of them. One foot of simulated metal bone was poking out of the heavy gauge steel like a fang.

"He-he just missed me by this much!" Cheetor stammered, holding his trembling fingers an inch apart. "He demanded I let him out. When I refused he went all silent and I thought; 'Okay, he's settled down', and then- _WHAM!_ He actually clipped off a whisker!"

Optimus brought down his fist on the side of the door. "Dinobot!"

"Let me out, Optimus!" came the predictable response.

"You're going to stay in there until you calm down. You almost impaled Cheetor with your sword! Now, I want you to apologize-"

He backpedaled just in time to avoid another sword piercing the wall. It split one of the power lines and there was a bright flash of light followed by a crash. When Optimus spared a glance through the hole, he saw that Dinobot had been thrown the length of the room, smashing through his desk. He was struggling to rise amid the clutter. When he realized he was being watched, his eyes switched over to that piercing green and the commander barely pulled his head back in time to avoid the twin lasers that punched through the hole and hit the far wall. Cheetor squawked and dove for the floor.

"Slaggit, Dinobot. Stand down!" Optimus shouted, pressing himself flat against the side wall.

The only response was something massive being thrown against the door hard enough to make the corridor shake. From the sounds of it, Dinobot had pulled his downtime ledge free from its floor brackets and was using it as a battering ram. "Optimus to Rhinox, come in!" the commander shouted into his internal comlink.

_"What now?!"_ came the exasperated response from the harried engineer. _"Never mind, let me guess- You need more shields, am I right?"_

"As many as you can carry!" Optimus told him and settled his armored form against the reinforced door as the shields started to shudder from the assault.

The situation didn't quiet down until early morning and by then the outside of Dinobot's quarters looked like a war zone. There were now heavy I-beams lying crossways across the corridor bracing the additional shields against the devastated door. Rattrap proceeded cautiously towards Rhinox who was standing guard nearby with both of his chainguns at his feet.

"How's it going?" he asked in a stage whisper.

"It's been quiet for almost two hours," his friend told him. "I'd risk looking in through the hole but I'm kind of fond of my face."

"Yeah, yeah, I hear you. Let sleepin Preds lie and all that," the little Maximal said, nodding. "I'm here to relieve you."

"Thanks," the gratitude in the larger Maximal's voice was unmistakable. "He's kept me hopping all night and I'm exhausted. You armed?"

Rattrap pulled his pistol out of his thigh holster and showed it to him.

"Only as a last ditch effort if he actually manages to get out, all right? I don't want you taking pot shots at him," Rhinox cautioned him as he returned his weapons to their subspace pocket.

Making a grimace of distaste, the smaller bot scowled up at him. "I ain't gonna harass him!"

Rhinox looked unconvinced. "Why should now be any different? Just call either me or Optimus if he gets out of control, all right?"

"Yeah, sure," Rattrap mumbled, not appreciating the low blow, even if it was accurate. Before this day, he would have reveled in the fact that his rival was locked up and would have had a blast rubbing the soldier's face in it. The thought of an imprisoned Dinobot completely at his mercy would have been at the top of his personal wish list.

But that was yesterday, and now things have changed. He wasn't sure yet if it was for the best but he had to find out. Once the sound of Rhinox's receding footfalls had faded, he knocked gingerly on the only piece of intact wall that still existed beside the door. "Yo, chopperface? You hear me in there?"

There was no reaction. The Maximal made several more attempts but it was probably as he told Rhinox; Dinobot had exhausted himself and was probably in a much-needed downtime cycle to gather his strength for another escape attempt later. Discouraged, Rattrap sat down on the floor with his back to the wall and became lost in thought.

Suddenly, coming from the laser hole to his left: "Vermin."

_"Agh!"_ He jumped in shock. "Holy slag, you're awake!"

"Get me out of here."

"No can do, big boy. Not til you calm down."

"I _have_ calmed down, rodent."

Damned if he didn't sound it, but Rattrap had been fooled by the shrewd soldier before. For a model built exclusively for combat, Dinobot had an unnerving ability to be able to intuitively perceive weaknesses and manipulate the emotions of another bot in order for them to do his own bidding. Cheetor had fallen for the soldier's covert maneuvering more than once.

Rattrap wasn't going to add himself to the list. Not again, anyway. Desperately switching tactics, he said instead; "Optimus is convinced that you'll go ape-slag again and make a beeline for the Pred base. If they get their hands on you, they'll scrap you for sure!"

"I should think that's something you would want," came the guarded reply.

"What'cha talking about? I don't want'cha dead!"

"Indeed..." There was the sensation of heavy footfalls crossing the room and then something settled against the wall and slid roughly to the ground. Dinobot was now sitting directly opposite Rattrap, the pair separated by less than one foot of metal. "Until our encounter with the probe, you would have happily killed me yourself. What's changed?"

Rattrap tried to come up with an answer and was desperately drawing a blank.

"Perhaps it's finally dawned on you that I'm not Bludfist. Is that it, vermin?"

He might as well as hit him with his lasers. Rattrap whirled around and hissed, "How the slag do you know that name? I've never told anyone about him!"

"Or Diamondback either, I suspect," it sounded like the former Predacon was actually smiling. "Interesting how easily she manipulated you. Quite amusing."

"Yeah, she was almost as smooth as Megatron was on Charr," Rattrap angrily shot back before he could stop himself. "Speakin of Charr, have you received any postcards from Shade and Raze lately?"

It was definitely the wrong thing to say.

Dinobot released a livid roar and Rattrap scrambled to his feet and drew his weapon as he pressed himself against the far wall. There was the sound of demolition going on, as if the soldier were slamming himself against something over and over. The sound was all wrong and the small Maximal couldn't understand what was happening in the room until there was a squeal of tortured metal-

-And then silence.

"Uh oh," Rattrap muttered, slowly lowering his pistol. As the silence lingered on, he figured that this could be some sort of trap but he eventually gathered enough courage to hoist himself up and look through the only hole that allowed a full view of the room.

There was a rip in the far wall where the metal had been peeled back and the armor paneling thrashed, creating a hole barely wide enough for the little Maximal to squeeze through. Dinobot had managed the feat but the edges of the jagged metal were peppered with remnants of where his own armor had been scraped off in the escape, as well long strips of hide from his beast form.

"Aw flak!" Rattrap cried in dismay. Without wasting time, he quickly slapped his chestplate to open a comm line. "Rattrap to Optimus-"

* * *

Dinobot made record time running over to the Predacon territory but when he reached the first jamming tower he finally started coming to his senses. He began pacing restlessly back and forth along the invisible line that marked the transition from Maximal territory and the enemy and he was at a rare loss as to what to do next. The datatracks were still playing in his subconscious; dredging up feelings of rage and indignation that were now over four years out of date. The emotional feedback was interfering with his logic circuits. It had been the primary reason he had encrypted the blasted memories in the first place!

_Shade, Raze, Armorgator, Boomslang..._ he snapped his jaws at the empty air in frustration and his striped hide shook in restrained fury, reminding him of his injuries from his earlier escape attempt. They weren't serious, just bothersome, and only added to his present frustration. Unless he was in peak form, he didn't dare attack the Darkside. Even though he knew this, it didn't lessen the hatred he felt. _Megatron had ruined everything! Him and Onslaught both!_ Dinobot now realized that if he hadn't taken the coward's way out and encrypted the memories in the first place, he might have eventually figured out their scheme and ultimately prevented this final scenario that both factions were now stuck in. Instead, he had lived the last four years in an ignorant dream.

_Oh the cursed irony..._ He had faithfully served out his miserable four-year mission on board the Darkside with the dim hope of being able to return to Charr; to return to the planet he regarded home and be reunited among those he had left behind. He had been completely oblivious to the reality that there was actually nothing to return to.

Everything was lost. It had been since the moment the Darkside left Charr.

_Over four long years ago..._

"What have I done?" he whispered in despair, squeezing his eyes shut.

* * *

The minute that Dinobot's signal was picked up and plainly showing a straight course towards the Predacon base, Optimus was prepared to fly but it was Rattrap who talked him out of it. He had noticed that the closer their ally got to the demarcation zone between the two territories, the slower he became. Right now, everyone stood in the control room holding their breaths as they watched the signal as it paced impatiently along the line. Back and forth, back and forth; the route displaying indecision and confusion, attributes that Dinobot had never displayed before. It was almost painful to watch.

"What's going on, Rattrap?" the commander asked sternly. "You know something we don't and I want to hear it. Now."

"The probe messed around with our datatracks, dredgin up a lot of old slag. I think it was meant as some sort of torture," the little bot chose to say as his answer. It was partly true and mostly not, but Rattrap figured that it would at least be believable.

"You appear to have shaken it off," Rhinox observed.

"Well yeah, because this is _me_ we're talkin about. But _him_," he gestured to the Maximal insignia that was still doing its aimless pacing. "I, uh, don't think it went so well..."

"He's fixated on Megatron, even more than before, and that's saying something," Optimus brooded. He gave his head a distracted shake and turned to Rattrap again, "He never said anything to you about what happened in the probe?"

"We ain't exactly confidants, just in case you ain't noticed," the smaller bot shot back. He had always been a convincing liar and now was no different. He provided an answer that was believable because it was absolutely true. The pair weren't friends by any stretch of the imagination.

And right now that bothered him, too. Even more than lying to his boss, who was obviously satisfied with what he'd been told.

Eventually, Dinobot's signal went out of its uncertain holding pattern and went on the move again. It gave the Predacon territories a wide berth and then headed for the hills. Everyone finally started to relax a little.

"He's come to his senses," Optimus said, relieved.

"Probably going to hole up somewhere for the rest of the day and catch some downtime," Rhinox said, yawning himself. "He'll be back by tomorrow evening at the latest. I'll make sure I have his quarters repaired by then."

It was a nice gesture but Rhinox was wrong about one very serious thing; Dinobot didn't return that evening. Or the next. By the third day, Optimus voiced aloud what everyone had been trying not to notice when they saw that his signal was deliberately heading due south. "He's leaving us. I don't know why but that's exactly what he's doing."

Cheetor immediately shook his head. "He wouldn't do that," he said confidently. "He's just, you know, on a patrol or something. He'll come back when he's finished!"

"Sure, Cheetor," Rhinox tried to reassure the youth but he spared a glance to Optimus who offered his friend a barely perceivable nod and headed for the lift. Rattrap caught the exchange and halted the elevator from descending as he faced his commander, saying, "I'm comin with you."

"Rattrap," Optimus sighed, rubbing his forehead in exasperation. "Bringing you along will not help the situation. In fact, it'll probably just make things worse."

"I _know_ I'm not chopperface's favorite person," Rattrap told him. "That's why I gotta go."

It didn't make any sense but Optimus relented, trusting his instincts rather than his logic circuits. He knew that there was something unresolved between the two rivals but if Rattrap actually wanted to help, who was he to argue? They went down the lift together and the Maximal transformed and picked up the rat bot and sped a swift course southwards.

The raptor's travels had not been a particularly speedy one and the pair caught up to him in swift fashion. Dinobot didn't look surprised when Optimus dropped down in front of him. He spared the smaller Maximal a perturbed glance and then faced their leader directly. "Come to fetch your wayward ally, I see," he remarked. "You should have called me first. I could have spared you the trip."

"What's going on Dinobot?" Optimus asked guardedly, not sure what to expect. The soldier's behavior had been irrational ever since his encounter with the probe and it didn't look like the last three days of travels had mellowed him. "Why are you abandoning us?"

"So melodramatic! I'm merely scouting out a southern location to erect a monitoring station that I will man. Much like how Tigertron manages to stay hidden at his post up north. I notice he did not appear in time for the battle. What a surprise."

Caught off guard, Optimus regarded his friend in complete shock, wondering where all of this rage and hatred was coming from. "This isn't about Tigertron-"

"It's about what's fair!" the soldier suddenly exploded. "You indulge the tiger to follow his nature and yet you dared to lock me up because of mine? I won't give you that opportunity again!" With that he transformed and towered over the other bot, sword in hand. In the background, Rattrap's troubled optics went back and forth between the pair, wondering when to intrude before things turned ugly.

Shaking his head in irritation, Optimus pointed a finger at the soldier. "All you would have accomplished by charging the Predacon base is get yourself scrapped. Again! We locked you up in your quarters for your own good-"

"How dare you presume what's good for me, Optimus! Why should I have to be forced to toe the line while the tiger has free rein to enjoy his freedom and mate with the local fauna every chance that he gets? Let him be imprisoned in the Axalon at your beck and call while I man some out of the way relay station and only show up for battle if it pleases me. After all he's the real Maximal, isn't that true? I'm not."

Optimus took one step towards the soldier, whether to try to reason or to fight he'll never know because Rattrap chose that moment to step in between them. "Awright, enough! The both of ya! You-" he pointed to Dinobot, "Stick that thing back up your... whatever. An you-" he looked up at his commander, "Go fly around the block a few hundred times or somethin. Me and Chopperface need some alone time for a long overdue talk."

"Rattrap-"

"Optimus- SCRAM!" the little bot shouted.

Fixing the soldier with a lingering glare (one that Dinobot fervently returned), Optimus turned his back on both of them. "I hope you know what you're doing," he said and fired his retro jets and flew off.

_So do I, Big Banana_, Rattrap thought and looked up at the other bot. "I mean it, Dinobot. We gotta talk about what happened in the probe."

"How did you know those names?" he asked bluntly, returning the sword to its spine sheathe.

Rattrap knew that he was referring to their exchange outside of his quarters. "The probe played back your encrypted files."

"How many of them did you see?"

Taking a deep breath, his companion told him the simple truth: "All of 'em."

"All-" Words failed him as he absorbed that honest admission. _Was it possible?_ The damage to his encryption protocols was a matter of record. So was his own interaction with the damnable probe. So it had to be true. The loathsome rodent had observed the single, most personal humiliation that he had ever endured since he had first come online. The mouthy Maximal had watched his first meeting with Megatron, through to Onslaught's betrayal, and finally to his own submission onboard the Darkside.

Rattrap, an infiltration model renowned for taking data back to his superiors, had witnessed it _all_.

Dinobot took a deep breath, deliberately avoiding eye contact with his rival, and let it out as a growl. "It only justifies my decision to leave, then."

"I didn't tell nobody what I saw," Rattrap told him seriously. "It's none of their slaggin business."

The doubt was clear on the soldier's face. "Vermin, _talk_ is all that you ever _do."_

"Well, yeah. Usually. But not this time."

"And what makes this juicy tidbit of information so different from all of the others you've happily spread?"

"Because you were in my datatracks, too," Rattrap said reluctantly. "You know what happened, you know what they- what I did. And you also know that Optimus would flip a gear if he found out why I really wanted to get on his ship."

Dinobot considered him seriously for a moment. "As ever, you speak the truth," he murmured.

"Yeah, that's right," he admitted, but he was heartened by the fact that his former rival appeared to be calming down a little.

"But it changes nothing. I'm not going back," the soldier finished and transformed into his raptor mode. He boldly turned his back on Rattrap and continued on his direct course due south without offering another word.

"Oh no you don't," the little Maximal grumbled under his breath. He considered his relatively few options for a split second before deciding on the only one that would guarantee a reaction. He ran after the soldier and suddenly kicked him in the butt as hard as he could. "We ain't done here!" he shouted.

Recoiling in shock, Dinobot whirled around and transformed, immediately pulling his sword free. Rattrap instinctively drew his pistol and leveled it at the soldier's chest even as the point of the sword settled just beneath the angle of his jaw. They stared at one another over their weapons, neither side giving an inch.

"Stalemate. Just like old times," Rattrap said with a pleased grin.

The rage left the former-Predacon's face as quickly as it came. "You've wanted to shoot me since the first moment we met," he commented and suddenly pulled his sword away and pointed it at the ground. He just stood in place, staring down at the pistol, and simply waited.

Casting his ally a shocked look, Rattrap shoved him backwards and quickly holstered the gun. "Slag, you've really lost it!"

"So Megatron informed me earlier," the solder said dully.

"Dinobot, you have got to snap outta this! Forget about all that garbage with Shade an' Raze an' Ons-"

Dinobot glared at him, his teeth bared in fury. "Of all of my years in service they were the only things I was ever truly proud of, and both Megatron and Onslaught ruined it for me: Shade lost twenty years of memories and Raze believes that I betrayed him. There's nothing left for me to go back to. What is _my_ victory if the Maximals win the Beast Wars?" He snapped an arm out and gestured to the bleak surroundings in frustration. "This! So why should I bother to care anymore?"

"Because the war _ain't_ over and we need you-"

"You 'need me'?" he repeated with spite. "How perfectly convenient for you to say that while the war rages on, you little hypocrite. When you thought it was finally over, you couldn't leave me behind fast enough!" he finished the last with a rising shout of anger and betrayal.

Rattrap glared back at him, or at least tried to. Less than two months ago it had looked like an accident onboard the Darkside had scrapped Megatron and the rest of his cronies. Unaware it was a trap, the Maximals had stolen the enemy's stardrive to put in their own damaged craft with the intention of returning home to Cybertron. Right from the start, Rattrap had wanted to leave the former Predacon behind, even before he had chosen the action for himself. Dinobot's distrust of Cybertron was a matter of record and Rattrap, one of her supposedly benevolent inhabitants, had wanting nothing more to do with him once the war appeared to be finally over. Even worse, the others had gone right along with him with barely any protests. It was as if the soldier had served his purpose and had then been discarded like a piece of scrap with scarcely a thank-you for saving their ungrateful hides. And when Megs and the gang had come out of hiding, damned if Dinobot hadn't tried to warn them rather than just sit back and enjoy the show.

Once a Pred always a Pred?

What race had acted the worst on that day? _What race really?_

Only Cheetor had tried to change Dinobot's mind on that terrible day. Their youngest, supposedly most immature member had been the only one among them to try and call him back. Ever since then, Dinobot was unusually patient in his dealings with the brash youngster. Rattrap realized now that it was the only way the soldier knew how to express his gratitude.

But Dinobot's dealings with _him_... Rattrap's internals did a lazy roll. The two couldn't stand to be in the same room with one another without some inanimate object suffering collateral damage once the insults started to fly. Out of desperation Optimus paired them up as often as he dared to try and create some sort of working relationship but unless they were in battle against the Predacons, the two couldn't tolerate the sight of one another. Rattrap realized it was time to try and smooth things over. "Look, things've... changed," he said awkwardly. "I-I'm sorry-"

"Flak your apology and flak you," Dinobot snarled, startling him. It wasn't a curse he had ever used before their encounter with the probe but playing back the datatracks had obviously imprinted the word on his active protocols. "I don't want to hear your regrets and I won't tolerate your pity. You viewed my datatracks and there's nothing I can do short of chewing out your mainframe to erase that knowledge. But be advised that I saw your memories too, vermin. I _know!"_

This time it was Rattrap who crossed his arms as he glared back at the soldier. It was just as he had said a few minutes earlier: Stalemate. Only this one was with words instead of weapons. It might as well have been the same damned thing because neither side was budging. They were a pair, weren't they? Maybe that was why the probe had purposely dredged up the worst experience they had ever endured in their lives and showed it to the other. To level the playing field. To provide a bit of common ground so that they could work together. Who knew what the motivation had been except to cause them more pain and grief than they actually needed?

"You would have become a Predacon that night had they not betrayed you," Dinobot continued, using that snide, calculated tone that always managed to rub Rattrap the wrong way. "You would have done it simply out of spite for your Maximal peers who regarded you as a joke."

"It wasn't just the lack of respect and you know it," the Maximal snapped. "Besides, you're the one who actually switched sides here. Not me."

"Ungrateful pest! I did it out of necessity for battle!"

"This ain't somethin that just suddenly came to mind because we crashed here on this stinkin planet. Don't you slaggin tell me that taking a mate and coddling your kid are Predacon traits because I know better. Of anyone on the Axalon, I _know_ that Preds don't do that!"

Bending down until their faces were mere inches apart, Dinobot growled into the other's face; "What, precisely, are you insinuating?"

Rattrap fearlessly met that challenge and shot back; "I'm tellin you I don't think I was the only one here pining away for the other side. _That's_ what!"

Releasing a strained growl, Dinobot raised his right hand and looked about to take a lethal swipe at the small bot but he relented and stalked off instead. "Ridiculous," he muttered under his breath. He crossed his arms and appeared to become preoccupied by something on the horizon, falling silent.

Rattrap knew where the soldier's thoughts had gone. They were back four years on Charr, back with his mate and friends, and his impulsive progeny. Back to a time when he had been content and free from the meddlesome trappings of power-hungry superiors. When the strained silence stretched on, he made another attempt, "Look-"

"Two hundred stellar cycles," Dinobot suddenly interrupted, looking down at the ground for a long time. When he finally spoke again, it was in a voice very different from his usual strained tone; "That's how long I engaged in constant territory expansion for the Predacon Empire without a break: Two hundred years. Eventually, my superiors recognized that I needed a respite and selected Charr as a posting. By placing me there, they assumed I wouldn't last a year for the boredom and would quickly return to active duty."

"So... how long were you there?"

"Eleven years. To say that the Military was frustrated with my choice to stay is putting it mildly."

Rattrap remembered Megatron's exasperation when he had brought the issue up during their fateful first meeting. "Why so long? Was it because of...?"

"Shade, yes," the soldier added a thoughtful nod. "Long-lasting attachments on the base were difficult because soldiers rarely stand the place for long and post out quickly. But she was placed there permanently because she was defective."

Rattrap was looking at him as if he were crazy. "Hey, I saw her for myself, remember? No _way_ was that babe malfunctioning!"

Dinobot stared back at him without expression. "She was blind, rodent. Didn't you notice?"

Blinking in astonishment, Rattrap's mind spun with this new information. _Blind?_ He quickly retraced his steps, this time focusing in the female's actions and yes, damned if the signs weren't all there as bright as day: Her persistent tactile contact that wasn't intimacy at all; identifying Megatron's ship by its sound even when she had been 'looking' straight at it; feeling for her mate's injuries in the Pit even with a lit torch that showed them. It was just as his large ally said; Shade had been as blind as a bat.

"Holy slag," he said in amazement.

"It took some time for me to notice, as well. Her radar and sensors are-" Dinobot caught himself, grimacing. "-were especially keen. She would have been an asset to any cadre that would have taken her. Instead, she was sent to Charr and forgotten like some piece of unwanted scrap." His eyes were smoldering at the thought and he fixed the Maximal with a furious glare. "I chose to stay on Charr because I'd had my fill of battle and could no longer tolerate being used by over-ambitious superiors. I wanted no more part of any of it!"

Rattrap sighed. "And then along came Megatron..."

"The Predacon Military is full of Megatrons. He is not so unique as he likes to believe," the soldier surprised him by saying. "Before Charr, I would have been able to defy him, but after eleven years of routine I was sorely out of practice. He broke me and that victory became his leash for the next four years-"

"I don't call what happened as being broken."

"You don't?" Dinobot sneered. "And what would Maximal sentiment label the action as being?"

The Maximal just shrugged. "You did what you had to do."

"It was my fault she was attacked!" Dinobot suddenly shouted at him, exposing the thing that had been plaguing him ever since he had first played back his unencrypted datatracks. It was festering in his spark and driving him insane with grief. "I refused a direct order and she paid for it. Her and Raze _both!"_

"At least they're functioning!" Rattrap shot back. He was relieved to finally see some emotion coming out of his ally that wasn't despair but he sure as hell didn't want to piss him off and send him running back over to the Darkside looking for a rumble. If that happened, Optimus would stick his big black nose into things and the whole situation would just go to slag. "It could have been a helluva lot worse and you slaggin _know_ it! So knock it off with the self-pity awreddy!"

"It is not so easy a task, vermin. The memories were deliberately encrypted so I could function and now that ability is lost to me. I can't tolerate them now any better than I could then. It..." His memory files searched desperately for a word that could accurately sum up what he was feeling and could only come up with; _"...hurts."_

"Yeah, I know somethin about that, too," Rattrap muttered.

"You cared for Diamondback." It was not a question.

"I loved her," the small Maximal corrected, not meeting his larger companion's gaze. He was clearly embarrassed by the admission but the time for truth telling had come, and the former Predacon had gone first. "I was prepared to throw everything away to be with her; Cybertronia, being a Maximal, even my friendship with Rhinox. It was a lie, though. All of it right from the start and I just didn't see it coming. Boy, that must have been one hell of a pathetic show for you, huh?" He released a bewildered, hurt little sound at the thought of Dinobot watching all of it from start to finish. "You must have been laughin your tail off!"

"My ancestors were called Decepticons for a reason," was all that Dinobot said. "At least they didn't kill you-"

"That's because I wasn't worth the bother," Rattrap grumbled.

"And Wolfbane was? No, vermin, you were spared for a reason. Diamondback was the one clearly in charge of that unit, despite the act she and Bludfist put on for your benefit. It would have been simpler to terminate you than let you live, but she did so."

The Maximal blinked in surprise. "What're you saying?"

Dinobot offered him a vague shrug. "Predacon motivations are complicated things to fathom at the best of times but those of its female sect are even more so. Believe me when I tell you _that,"_ there was almost an exasperated note to his voice with that admission and Rattrap had to smile a little at the sound of it. He couldn't help himself. "Whatever the case, she spared your life. Take that as a gift."

"A gift..." It was something for consideration that was for sure. "When the Axalon was in space and we were ordered to divert course to intercept, I thought- hoped... I-" Rattrap fell into troubled silence.

"Sorry to disappoint you," Dinobot said with just a trace of his usual sarcasm.

"Well, the prospect of wranglin a bunch of Predacon criminals would have put some excitement into a really boring tour. But you ain't one, are you? I saw your datatracks... you ain't a criminal at all!"

"By the time the theft of the Golden Disk occurred, that was our official status," Dinobot finally said. "But it wasn't really true."

"Now there ya go again with the slaggin riddles!" Rattrap huffed.

"If it had been just the matter of attacking the Maximal Hall of Records and stealing the disk, Megatron would have had no use of me. I'm Infantry, not Infiltration," Dinobot sighed, he was back to staring out at the bleak countryside again, scarcely giving the Maximal his attention. "He needed someone experienced in wrecking havoc and having the skill not to be caught. For the last four years that was my function. I was responsible for overseeing the training for the rest of the crew. We spent that time purposely creating mayhem so that the Tripredacus Council would have legitimate cause to denounce us and save face once the war began anew. I believe the diplomatic term is: Plausible deniability. I'm no more of a criminal than you are."

He considered the rodent for a second and amended, "Actually, I believe I'll take that back..."

"Hey!"

A ghost of a smile crossed Dinobot's face for a moment and then passed and he looked away again, troubled. "What they did to you was wrong, rodent. Especially Bludfist. He had absolutely no honor. Do not confuse me for him."

"That's exactly what I've been doing, isn't it?" Rattrap said unhappily. "Man, I've been riding your tail the second you came over to our side."

"It was understandable at first," the soldier admitted. "Even expected. But now, it's become a liability. This Beast War is intensifying. Optimus is correct when he says that he no longer can allow infighting among the crew. The time for that diversion has passed, vermin."

"Is that why you're trying to leave? Because of me?"

Dinobot wouldn't commit to a nod but the fact that he still couldn't make eye contact with the Maximal spoke volumes. "Thanks to the probe's meddling, things between us are no longer the same. I won't have you throwing what happened to me on Charr into the mix every time we squabble. I won't tolerate it. I can't-" he bit the words off and looked away, exasperated and deeply upset.

"That ain't gonna happen."

"We have been at each other's throats for the last six months. Now you expect me to simply trust you? That's not how it works!"

"It's not about trust. It's about something else," the Maximal persisted. "The probe said something to me during the playback of your datatracks. It said: _'You must know. So you will understand'._" He caught a sharp look from the soldier and added, "You heard the same thing."

"Yes," Dinobot admitted. "The reasoning behind it escapes me."

"It did me at first, but now I think I'm startin to figure it out. The aliens are all about studying and experiments and stuff. Who knows what this whole thing was really about, but it got us talking, didn't it? For the first time since we all got stuck on this rock, you an I are actually talking like rational bots. We now got some common ground. Mebbe that's what the probe meant to do-"

"Vermin, you are reaching. Leave the philosophy to Rhinox-"

"You can't deny it!" the small bot told him. "When've we ever gotten along like this? We both saw each other's most personal low point. It's leveled the playing field. It's made us, like... equals."

"Oh, now the insults return," the soldier muttered under his breath, looking away.

Rattrap stamped his feet in frustration. "I'm tryin to be serious, slaggit! The least you can do is try the same! Before yesterday, I just thought you was just another stinking Pred, but now I know that you got forced into working for Megatron. At the same time, you now know that I betrayed the Maximals and got Wolfbane killed. Nothin's the same between us anymore!"

Dinobot fell into troubled silence. Finally, he asked, "Do you still have it?"

Rattrap eyed him curiously. "Have what?" When the soldier only looked at him, he mumbled and reached for his sub space pocket. He pulled out Wolfbane's tarnished insignia that still had a scrap of fur clinging to the clasp. He stared down at it for a long time, lost in thought-

"Hand it over," the soldier said, reaching out.

"What for?"

"Just do it."

Reluctantly, the little Maximal did so. Dinobot looked at it for a few seconds and then threw it into the air, vaporizing it with his optic lasers.

"Hey!" Rattrap squawked.

"No more ties to the past," the former Predacon told him directly. "No more dwelling on painful memories. If I've read between the lines of your wretched grammar successfully, you are asking for a second chance in our working relationship. I will concede, vermin."

Tearing his optics away from the small bits of ash still drifting in the wind, Rattrap looked up at the tall soldier with evident surprise. "_Huh?_ You will? Does that mean you're comin back to the Axalon?"

"It does."

"Cool," he said and extended his hand to seal the deal. _Here's the real test,_ he thought as he watched Dinobot regard the proffered appendage with his usual suspicion. _This is gonna be the real sign if all of our words were just meaningless slag or if they actually struck a chord._ He waited for perhaps thirty seconds and was about to drop his arm when the soldier reached out and enclosed his massive hand over the smaller one, pumped it once and then pulled it back quickly, as if scared he might have picked up some communicable disease.

Nonetheless, Rattrap was smiling. "Just for the record, this don't mean we're buddies."

"Agreed," Dinobot said.

"Just allies."

"Correct."

"We ain't ever gonna hug, or do none of that happy-sappy crap together."

"I will kill us both if we do."

"Well, I think this is the start of a wonnerful working relationship," the small bot announced proudly, "... Bronto brain."

"Pestilent mouse," the other shot back easily, but there was the faint trace of a smile on his face. The usual maliciousness was gone from the barb and they could both sense the change. The probe had done its work well. It had finally made them talk - not as rivals but as equals, and perhaps a little bit more.

Perhaps as friends.

Optimus appeared on the scene a few minutes later. Taking Rattrap's advice, he had remained a respectable distance away but had still watched them with his zoom lens just in case they started battling and he would have been needed to intervene (or so he told himself, anyway). Several times their exchange had looked extremely heated, especially when Rattrap had kicked the soldier's beast form, but aside from that brief moment when weapons had been drawn, they just talked. He wanted to know what was going on but there was a fine line between being a leader and being a friend, and in this instance he was being purposely shut out. Apparently, this was something deeply personal between them. He would probably never know the whole story of what had gone on inside the probe, but the final outcome appeared to have yielded its own rewards. He had seen the pair shake hands and it was a sight that filled him with an inexpressible sense of relief.

He landed near the two and passed Dinobot a wary glance. The soldier had changed back into his raptor form and the previous aggression appeared to have finally left him. He only looked back expectantly. "I'm sorry for locking you in your quarters, Dinobot. I... just didn't know what else I could-"

"Your motives were sound, Optimus. In fact, you probably saved my life. Once more, I am in your debt," with that, the raptor turned and walked away without offering another word.

It was just as well, Optimus was struck dumb by the sudden concession and he cast his disbelieving stare on the only other Maximal available.

Rattrap just grinned and shrugged, clearly pleased by the short exchange. "He's comin back to the ship. It was just, y'know, a simple misunderstanding is all," the little spy told him. "No biggie."

It was the first time that the Maximal leader was certain his smaller friend was lying, but he decided to let things rest. Besides, he had other things on his mind right now. Dinobot's objections about Tigertron had caused him some thought and he realized that he _had_ been lax in his handling of their pacifist member, and that was going to have to change. "I'm heading up north to have a... discussion with Tigertron about our latest battle. Do you want me to drop you off at the Axalon?"

Rattrap opened his mouth to respond an affirmative and suddenly hesitated, glancing over to where Dinobot had gone. The raptor was almost out of sight as he headed down the hill. "Naw, I'm good," he said, transforming into his rat form. "Between you and featherhead, I've just about had my fill o' flyin for the week. Stretching my legs might not be such a bad idea. 'Sides, it's been awhile since I've done any camping."

"Suit yourself," Optimus said, but he was smiling. He fired his jets and took to the air while below, he could hear the small Maximal call out; "Yo! Slow down, ya overgrown iguana! I'm comin back with you!"

And the predictable retort: "Oh splendid. In difference to your stumpy legs, it will take us over a week to return to the base!"

"I'm speedy where it counts, scalebelly and- _Hey!_ What're you smilin at!? That ain't funny!"

"Well... that depends on your perspective, vermin."

Far below, Rattrap hustled his steps to catch up with the large raptor and the pair stopped and looked at one another. Optimus sighed, shaking his head in dismay. _Perhaps it would be for the best if I just didn't bother to get my hopes up anymore..._ He hovered in place over their heads, waiting for the inevitable between the pair: shouting, transforming, and the brandishing of weapons.

What he heard instead caught him completely off guard.

It was laughter.

* * *

The End.


End file.
